Of Wardens and Mages
by Miri1984
Summary: Set five years after the end of the blight at the end of Losses . Tells the tale of Anders and Neria Surana as the wardens in Amaranthine struggle to rebuild their numbers and deal with the ever more perplexing darkspawn threat. Rated M for later.
1. Chapter 1

Neria Surana was annoyed. She'd been annoyed for over four years. Ever since she'd passed her harrowing to be exact. Helping Jowan to escape had not endeared her to Gregior and the First Enchanter and although she'd worked hard to make up for her single stupid - possibly catastrophic mistake she still wasn't being trusted with anything beyond the simplest of tasks. There was no question of her being allowed out of the tower. Even when the wardens needed help against the archdemon she'd been left behind to look after the children - despite having the best range of offensive spells of any mage her age in the Tower.

If it wasn't for the fact that nearly every day she had to see Jowan - as a tranquil - helping in the storeroom, or cataloguing runes she would have wished the worst punishment on him she could think of.

As it was, he'd already got it.

When the grey wardens arrived for their yearly "sort" as Senior Enchanter Torin called it, she fully expected to be shunted off to the storeroom again the way she had been the previous two years. Instead, she was woken that morning by the First Enchanter.

She'd given up getting up early. The other mages in her dormitory left her alone in the mornings. They left her alone most of the time. Although she'd never exactly been popular before the Jowan incident, she'd been respected and had a few friends. That had changed. Nowadays she could get through an entire day without talking to any of them.

So she would stay up late, taking delight in tormenting her personal templar (Cullen, most of the time, although sometimes even he begged off in despair) by staying up as late as possible and sleeping past breakfast. They couldn't make her tranquil. They couldn't brand her as a malificar - sweet Andraste, hadn't she been one of the ones to _warn _Wynne and the others about Uldred's little subversion project? So she'd given up trying to make up for her mistakes. If they weren't going to trust her, she wasn't going to be their dogsbody.

Why was Irving here? She sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes and mussing her black hair.

"Neria," he said, and the tone he used was the same he had back in the days when she had been his pet apprentice. It only made her more bitter.

"What?"

He sighed. "Neria the Grey Wardens coming today."

"So I expect you want to lock me up with Jowan and Owain again?"

"No, my dear," he said. "I think it's finally time that you joined them."

There were three of them. A dwarf and two humans. One of the humans was a man who looked strangely familiar - not surprising since he was a mage. But she couldn't place his name, which was strange. It meant he'd almost certainly left the tower before her harrowing, but he looked too young to have been assigned away and he couldn't have been conscripted into the wardens before the blight...

....Then he would be dead.

"Why would I want her?" the dwarf was saying to Irving. "You said yourself she's undisciplined. I don't need wardens who can't follow orders."

The warden mage seemed to find this comment particularly amusing and the dwarf shot him a look that plainly spoke volumes about who would be needing discipline later.

"Neria is the most talented mage in the circle at present," Irving was saying. "But I'm ashamed to say that our goals do not coincide. There was an unfortunate incident some years ago that has... destroyed any trust between us."

The mage cocked his eyebrow. "Now there's a surprise," he said dryly.

"Much like you, Anders," Irving said sharply. "And I'm sure _you'll _agree you don't want Neria to have the same experiences you had with us before your departure."

"Oh, why not?" he replied, rolling his brown eyes dramatically. "They were_ ever_ so character building."

Irving groaned and the mage... Anders... smirked. She remembered him now. A few years older than she, he had spent nearly all of his time at the tower in solitary confinement. Or absent. _Without _leave.

"Commander," the other human, a tall dark haired man with a serious face. "A word?"

The three wardens moved away from her and the First Enchanter. She tilted her head, glad that most humans forgot how well elves could hear, but they were frustratingly quiet. She caught only a few words - "joining", "useful", "we need", before Anders' voice piped up with "And I'm not _that _bad!". She hid a grin behind her hand.

"Very well," the Commander said when they turned back to her. "We'll take her back to the Vigil with us. But she will be tested before we accept her as a warden - as will the others."

"What will happen to me if I'm not found worthy?" she asked.

"You'll come back to the tower," the dark haired man said.

"Or you'll die," Anders added cheerily. He winked at her. "I know which _I'd _prefer."


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning they gathered at the docks. Neria was surprisingly depressed, considering she was getting pretty much exactly what she wanted. Perhaps it was because she'd gone to see Jowan before coming down. It was more than a little difficult to articulate to herself how she felt about leaving him.

Leaving the circle - that was no problem. No problem _at all. _The place she had once considered home, somewhere that cupped her in protective hands and gave her life a purpose was now nothing but a prison and she hated the very sight of it. And it wasn't as though Jowan _cared _whether she was there or not.

He had stood there in front her her, blank faced and relaxed. "I am pleased you are happy," he had said. Even though she knew words like "pleased" and "happy" had no meaning for him any more. Tears had threatened, but she had blinked them away. They would only confuse him.

So now she stood on the dock in the rain with a chest that was way too big for her tiny collection of possessions in the company of two other mage recruits who despised her and three wardens who would probably learn to, missing the company of someone who couldn't care less if she was on the other side of Thedas.

At least there wouldn't be templars.

The two other recruits were a male elf called Armand and a woman, Branwen. They eyed her with studied disdain. They were younger than she was by a few years and almost certainly knew about her crimes. _I didn't know he was a blood mage, _she felt like shouting at them. But she'd shouted that at enough people and not been believed, so she kept her mouth shut and saved her breath, pulling her cloak more tightly around her shoulders. They were probably competent enough. The grey wardens only ever took the best - if they took anyone at all. This would be the first year they took all three of the recruits they were promised. Still trying to boost their numbers after the losses of the blight, she reasoned.

A couple of templars loaded their gear onto the boat and she felt someone come up beside her.

"Ready to embark on a life of daring and adventure?" Anders voice tickled her ear. She resisted the urge to swat as though he were a fly.

"I'd be happy just to embark on something approaching _life, _to be honest," she said. Looking up at him.

"Well, it's not much," he said, grinning down at her. "Fighting darkspawn in the deep roads, training - but at least we're allowed out at night."

"Why _are _warden mages allowed out?" she asked, suddenly curious. "It's not as though we couldn't run off and become apostates somewhere."

"The Chantry still has our phylacteries," he said, looking more than a little put out. "And we're technically under the Commander's care. _She'll _be held responsible if we end up running amok. And she's pretty scary." Neria looked over to where the dwarven woman was talking to Gregior. She was dressed in plain leather armour with a sword and dagger on her back. Neria hadn't seen any dwarves since she had been taken from the alienage in Denerim and she agreed with Anders, there _was _something ferocious about the Commander. "Luckily she's not as paranoid as your average templar, though. We give our oath to stay and serve the wardens and she believes us."

"So do we get to go out and have a party in Amaranthine when we get there?" she asked dryly.

He chuckled. "Not likely," he said. "There's the joining to go through first."

"I thought we were going to be tested for worthiness?" she said.

"We never said it was a _long _test."

"So what is it then?"

"You'll see," he said, but his face was troubled and he moved away from her. "Looks like the boat's ready. In you get."

It was a three week journey to Amaranthine, and they stopped on the way to pick up more recruits. A soldier from West Hill. A templar and a rogue from Highever. The templar eyed the mage recruits with undisguised distrust for a few days until the Commander took him aside for a few words. The glares stopped.

The wardens seemed easy in each other's company - although the dour Nathaniel tended to roll his eyes whenever Anders opened his mouth. Sigrun - the warden Commander's name was Sigrun, she'd only found it out by accident when Anders had called her that once - was surprisingly cheerful and not afraid to make the occasional smart response if Anders got too chatty. She was young, Neria guessed she wasn't more than a few years older than she was, a symptom of losing most of their number during the Blight. She also sported an interesting tattoo on her face. She didn't like to pry about it, considering she knew no other dwarves - but she couldn't remember seeing one like it on any of the dwarves she'd seen in Denerim.

Anders approached her one night about a week into their journey. "Do you ever speak?" he asked her, taking a seat on the log she occupied. She looked at him in silence for a moment, considering her reply. He watched her, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "I take it the answer is no, then?"

She rolled her eyes. "It might be," she said.

"It's just that we've been traveling in a group for nearly a week now and you haven't talked to _anyone. _Not your fellow mages, not us... I haven't even caught you talking to yourself yet."

She shrugged. "Not much to say, I suppose."

He cocked an eyebrow. "And now I'm all intrigued," he said. "Irving hinted that you'd done something they didn't like - back at the tower. What was it?"

She was suddenly angry. "Why do you care?" she said.

"Let's just say I get a warm tingly feeling in my belly every time I think of Gregior and the templars having a hard time."

"I don't see why it's your business," she said shortly.

He made a face. "Just so you know, when we get to the Vigil I'll technically be your commanding officer," she glared at him. He held up his hands. "I'm just saying! So you probably should be a _little _more polite."

"Just like Nathaniel is polite to you?" she said.

"Huh. Good point. But unfortunately for me, and to my unending despair, he's _my _ commanding officer. So he doesn't have to be polite to me if he doesn't want to."

"You're not polite to him either," she pointed out.

"Benefits of experience and length of service," he replied promptly. "You can be cheeky with me once you've killed your fiftieth darkspawn."

"Point the way, ser," she said, grinning a little.

"Cheek," he said. "Stop it. And indulge my little enquiry - I have a few reasons for asking."

"I helped a blood mage escape," she said flatly.

He whistled through his teeth. "No wonder you weren't popular."

"I didn't know he was a blood mage," she said. "He was... he was my friend. They were going to make him tranquil, so I helped him." Her mouth twisted. "Of course, trying to convince Gregior and Irving that I was ignorant of his blood magic was a futile effort."

Anders' face had turned a little grim. "Oh, I don't know," he said softly. "Irving might have believed you. He's a pretty good judge of character."

"He didn't seem to like _you _much."

"Proves my point," the older mage said. "What happened to your friend?"

"They caught him," she said. "He's been made tranquil."

Anders nodded, lips pressed together. "I'm sorry," he said. "But.." he continued, getting to his feet and opening his arms as though he wanted to embrace the air itself, "the night is clear, and you are free. Breathe the air, my friend. Enjoy it while it lasts. I suspect you have a little more appreciation for it than your fellows."

She was charmed by his evident delight, and tried to feel the same way. She was free. At least, more free than she had been. She hoped that feeling would last.


	3. Chapter 3

"Chatting up the elf?" Sigrun said to him once the potential wardens were asleep. "I thought you'd learned that was a bad idea, after Velanna."

"Haha," he said. "Velanna loved my attentions. She only ran away because she was afraid of her feelings for me."

"Sure she did," Sigrun said. "And I'm six feet tall."

"To me, you _are_," Anders said. "And I wasn't chatting her up. I was trying to find out why she was so unpopular at the tower."

"Did you know her?" Nathaniel asked.

"Only by reputation," he replied. "When I was there... and allowed to mingle.." Nathaniel snorted.. "which wasn't often, I admit, she had a reputation for being a teacher's pet. And for being talented. So I was surprised to see she'd managed to get onto Irving's bad side."

"What did she do?" Nathaniel asked.

"She helped a blood mage escape," he said.

"Yes, Irving told me the story," Sigrun said.

"And you didn't think it was worth sharing?" Anders asked. "I'm hurt."

"I knew you'd have more fun prying it out of her yourself," she said, tearing up a hunk of bread and passing half to Nathaniel. They didn't sleep much, any of them, these days. Although the dreams had quieted since the death of the Architect, there was something unsettling about the night at present, something that all the wardens were sensing. It made them edgy and sleep, when it did come, was less than satisfying.

The feeling had prompted Sigrun to push for a bigger recruitment run this year. There were a steady stream of warriors who came to Amaranthine in the hope of becoming Wardens, but many of them were simply not suitable material, and then there was the toll taken by the joining. Sigrun had proven herself particularly good at choosing recruits who survived the joining - she seemed to have a sixth sense where that was concerned. Although some still died, it was rare that more than one in five did not survive. They were, however, chronically short of mages. The last two trips to the tower had yielded only two recruits, one of whom had died during the joining. Anders protracted trip to the Tevinter Imperium in the previous year had left Sigrun pressed and bothered for magical help, so much so that she had asked the tower to assign them a circle mage or two - not as wardens, but simply as healers.

The circle had been happy to comply. But Anders knew she was uncomfortable with having non-wardens attend her troops. There were too many opportunities for warden secrets to be spilled.

He had been surprised at how well Sigrun had fallen into the role of Warden Commander. Everyone had expected Nathaniel to take Miranda Cousland's place, once she finally acknowledged that being Queen and Commander was too much for one woman, but the son of Rendon Howe had flat out refused to take command. He'd been happy enough with accepting the role of her second, however, and in private Anders knew as far as the Arldom was concerned, _he_ was the arl of Amaranthine. Sigrun was entirely happy to have the man perform the noble duties that came with her position - considering the people of Amaranthine had been a little more than apprehensive about the title of Arlessa going to a dwarf - and duster born at that.

Anders was just happy Miranda hadn't thought _he _was capable of leading the wardens. He was happy enough to be head of the mages, especially considering there were at present just the two of them, but any more than that would feel a bit too much like... responsibility.

His eyes traveled to the three mages, wrapped in their bedrolls on the other side of the fire. If all three of them survived the joining - and he couldn't find it in his heart to wish that they didn't - he'd have a lot more responsibility than he'd ever had in his relatively short life.

He leaned forward and poked the fire, tiredness tugging at his eyes. He told himself he could always run off again - the Vigil was much easier to get out of than the tower ever had been, but he knew his heart wasn't in it. It would seem like a betrayal. To Sigrun and Nate. To that nughumping, belching dwarf.

To _her._

_

* * *

_

Ser Pounce-a-Lot stared at him resentfully from his position on the top shelf of the larder. Anders knew there would be trouble. There was always trouble when he was away for more than a few days, but the cat didn't fit in his robes any more and had a tendency to randomly attack darkspawn that were far, far too powerful for him if he took him along on expeditions, so he was left behind.

He was well fed and cared for by the other wardens, and by all accounts had a perfectly good time of it while Anders was away, but when he returned he would invariably get the offended treatment for at least a week before the cat would once again deign to be stroked or sleep in his usual spot, curled up on the end of Anders' bed.

"Pounce, you come down here, _this instant," _he said sternly - mostly for the benefit of the kitchen staff who had called him in. Really, he knew there was no point. The cat would come down when he wanted to and not before, and he wasn't willing to cast magic on him in such a confined space.

There was a sound behind him and he turned to find the elf recruit - Neria, standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips.

"Huh," he said. "What might you be doing sneaking around the larder, recruit?"

"The Commander sent me to find you," she said shortly. "She said she needed to speak with you. What _are _you doing?"

He shrugged sheepishly. "Ser Pounce-A-Lot has decided the top shelf of the larder is a good place to sleep," he said.

Her eyes opened wide. _"Ser Pounce-A-Lot?"_

He frowned. "If you have a problem with what I named my cat, take it up with .. me I suppose. But don't expect me to be sympathetic."

"I _like _cats," she said. "You obviously don't, or you wouldn't have named him that. How about I try to get him down?"

"You won't be able to," he said smugly. "For starters, you're not even tall enough to reach the shelf."

She rolled her eyes at him and wiggled her fingers. "Ah.. and I wouldn't... he doesn't like it when..."

But it was too late. There was a tiny flare of power between her hands and suddenly pounce was being gently lifted from the shelf and into her arms. He didn't even blink. Anders' jaw dropped as he looked at the elf, calmly stroking the ginger cat's soft ears. There was a low rumbling coming from the animal.

"You traitorous little..." he said at the purring cat, who flicked an ear at him disdainfully. "How did you do that? Usually he yowls at the merest hint of magic."

"When you're locked up in a tower for four years with no friends, you spend a lot of time practicing," she said.

"Tell me about it," he replied. She lowered the cat to the floor. He sat on his haunches and licked his paw, before giving Anders a sly look and leaving, twining himself around the elf's legs as he went.

"You only did that to hurt me," he said at the cat's retreating form. Pounce flicked his tail. Anders brought his attention back to the diminutive form in front of him. She really was tiny - even for an elf. She barely reached his chest. The most talented mage in the circle at present, Irving had said. _Mostly self taught I'll bet, _he thought to himself. _The best of us usually are. _"Did you say the Commander wanted to see me?"

"Yes. She wants to talk to you about us, I think."

"Well, I'd better go and give her my professional opinion on your cat-wrangling abilities then. Should be _very _useful against darkspawn, that."

"You know, if you're going to be my commanding officer, you should probably work on that whole 'fostering respect amongst the troops' thing they talk about in leadership circles."

He waved his hand. "You respect me," he said airily. "I'm awesome. Some might say ridiculously so. Now if you'll excuse me I have important warden business, it seems."

She stepped out of his way with an exaggerated bow.

He found himself grinning as he made his way up to Sigrun's study and had to take a firm hand on his emotions. _She might not survive the joining, _he thought to himself. _Don't get too attached._

_

* * *

_

"Your assessment?" Sigrun was saying to Nate as he entered her study.

"They're both talented enough," Nathaniel said. "Although Colin will have to curb that attitude to mages he's got if he wants to work well with us."

"Give him some time," Sigrun said. "He's only just out of the Chantry. From what I've heard they indoctrinate novice templars pretty heavily."

"Anders," Nathaniel said looking up from where he was seated in front of the Commander's desk. "So kind of you to join us."

"Sorry," he said. "Pounce was terrorizing the kitchen again. You wanted to see me?"

"What do you think of the new mages?"

He stroked his chin. "They're all pretty talented - standard range of spells for their specialisations. Except for Surana. She seems to have... some extra curricular talents. I'm guessing it's because she's older."

"I'm still not certain we should have taken her," Sigrun said, resting her chin on her hand. Anders felt a cold fist of fear close around his heart. The joining - was she worried about the joining?

"Worried she might burn down the Vigil?" he said lightly.

She smiled. "No. No I just don't know how she'll react to discipline."

"That is a problem," Nathaniel added, giving Anders a significant look.

"Hey, she'll be under my command," he said.

"And considering that consists of no discipline whatsoever she should be fine?" Sigrun said.

"It's not my fault Sev couldn't organise his way out of a saddlebag."

"It's your fault that _you _can't, though," Nathaniel said. The rogue sighed. "It's a bit too late to be worrying about it now, though, isn't it commander? From what Irving said there's no doubt she'll be a valuable asset to us if she survives the joining."

"I wanted healers, not battlemages," she said.

"The other two are healers," Anders said. _"I''m _a healer. We could use some more offensive magic."

"You've been significantly lax in your healing duties since you got back from Tevinter," Nathaniel pointed out.

He grimaced. "I spent over a year being a midwife," he said, pouting a little. "Forgive me if I want to spread my wings a little."

"Well, if these two work out you should have a bit more time on your hand to utilise your more _manly_ talents," Sigrun drawled. "But I expect you to keep them in line."

"Are we going to keep our circle friends?" he asked. The two circle mages - Una and Ewan, were aloof and superior and he hated them cordially. They resided in the Vigil's makeshift hospital, where they attended wounded wardens. He was able to avoid them, most of the time.

"For now," Sigrun said. "I'm thinking there might be a way to keep them for good. I want our healers to be with us in the deep roads, so we're going to need back ups for those who get back to the Vigil wounded."

Anders sighed. "Maybe we should arrange some sort of ... roster? Rotate them in and out of the tower? It should stop them from learning too much about us if they're only here for a limited time."

Sigrun raised an eyebrow. "A surprisingly good suggestion, Anders," she said. He decided not to tell her the reason he'd come up with it was to get some relief from Una's grumpy glare every time he went into the infirmary. "I'll mention it to the king when he gets here."

He started. "The king's coming here?" he said.

Sigrun rolled her eyes. "Yes. And no, you can't be excused for a trip to the deep roads, I need you with the new recruits."

Anders swallowed. "When?"

"In a week," Sigrun said.

"Is she...?"

"Yes. She's bringing Duncan too."

"Perfect," he said, shoulders slumping.


	4. Chapter 4

That night he sat up in bed looking glumly at Ser Pounce-A-Lot, who seemed to have forgiven him finally for his absence. Although an extended time in King Alistair's company on their recent trip to Tevinter had mellowed the relationship somewhat, Anders didn't relish the thought of interacting with him again. Their first meeting had ended pretty much as badly as any meeting could, and he couldn't help the sharp flood of jealousy he felt whenever he saw him. _Spiky haired ponce, _He thought resentfully.

For his part, Alistair cordially ignored him. He could cope with that, if it wasn't for the fact that Miranda found the whole thing hilarious. Her initial anger over their first meeting had dissolved fairly quickly into amused tolerance.

He stroked Pounce behind the ears. "You're lucky there are no lady cats at the Vigil, Pounce," Anders said to him. "They just make life complicated."

On top of that, the joining was tomorrow. The recruits had spent the past few days testing each other's skills in front of the wardens, learning everything they could learn about the deep roads and the darkspawn without learning any of the significant details of the joining, and Anders knew he was going to feel it keenly if they lost any of them. Even the templar, Colin, had his appeal. No one deserved to die that way.

He remembered Mhairi, so eager to become a warden, coughing and convulsing on the floor as the life fled from her. If he'd seen that - before Varel had offered him the cup - he would have refused it. And he probably would have died at Miranda's hand. She'd told him what had happened at her joining - when Duncan had killed Ser Jory. There was no turning back.

The new recruits didn't know that. He felt sorry for them, but there was nothing he could do. As long as the darkspawn were a threat, they needed wardens.

He was delaying going to sleep. He knew that. He didn't think he was the nervous type, but the dreams the wardens had been having lately were anything but reassuring. No archdemon, no darkspawn as such, just a lurking, shadowy _presence _that seemed to want something. It wasn't even exactly frightening, but it seemed to sap energy so that often the wardens woke more tired than they had been when they went to sleep.

Food helped. As did strong drink (Oghren hadn't complained of _any_ dreams - except the rather disturbing one about the pants - which said which worked better). Anders liked a drink as much as the next man, but after six or seven days straight of hangovers he'd decided he liked waking up tired better.

He bashed his pillow and lay down, blowing out the candle by his bed as he did so and closing his eyes.

Sleep was a long time coming.

* * *

_He stood at the edge of a forest. It felt like night, but there was too much light - he could see the outline of every tree. He felt very small, as though he were a child again. A wind started up - so fierce that it bent the trees towards him, whipping his hair around his face and stinging it with cold._

_He was aware of the blackness before he could see it. A formless mass somewhere behind and above the forest. It filled him with dread. Who _was _he to think he could combat it? He had nothing at his command - no magic, no weapons. He was just one man._

_It was getting closer._

Anders woke in a pool of sweat. Dreams again. This one wasn't any different to the ones he'd been having the past few months, save that the nameless dread was greater each time. No darkspawn, none of the familiar tingling nausea that accompanied the arrival of those creatures, but _something_, something was waiting for them.

* * *

"You will be heading into the deep roads," the Commander said to them. "As a group, you will be expected to work together to fight darkspawn and collect a vial of darkspawn blood each. This should not be difficult," she added. "There are plenty of them down there." The recruits shifted uncomfortably. "Anders and Nathaniel will accompany you," Sigrun continued. "It's their job to sense any darkspawn before you come across them, so pay attention to their orders and make sure you bring them back to the Vigil alive. Your chances down there without them are _not good."_

Neria looked at the other recruits. They all looked nervous. She flexed her fingers and checked her staff was secure on her back. This was going to be interesting. Since her harrowing she hadn't been tried in battle at all, and it was frustrating that despite her age she was technically the least experienced of the three mages. Practicing in the library had its limits.

She found there was a hard kernel of fear in the pit of her stomach and examined it, intrigued. She hadn't felt real fear since Jowan's escape, and that was tinged with despair. Here it was like a ball of lightning, feeding her nervous energy, making her thoughts spark in all directions. It could be used, she knew. Or it could use her.

There was an entrance to the deep roads under the keep. "Handy," she said to Michel, the rogue recruit. He grinned at her.

"This is where the darkspawn came out and overran the vigil," he replied. "Just after the Queen was appointed warden commander."

She raised her eyebrows. "Someone's done their homework," she said.

He shrugged, looking a little bit embarrassed. "I... always loved to hear those stories," he said. He was young, probably only around eighteen or nineteen, so it wasn't too surprising that he was in awe of the wardens. Everyone had been - after the Blight.

The first thing that hit her was the smell. Decay and dust and a sharp tang of metal - and something else that crept along the edges of her senses and set her nerves even more on edge.

"Charming, isn't it?" Anders said. He had a way of sneaking up beside her that was fast becoming annoying.

"Fragrant," she replied.

"When we find our pet darkspawn," he said, "you and the other mages need to stay back if you can. Use ranged spells. But try not to fireball us all? Nathaniel, Colin, Michel and I will handle the melee stuff."

She cocked an eyebrow, taking in his robe. "You're not exactly dressed for melee fighting," she said.

His eyes ran over her mage robes. "Standard issue circle robes," he said clucking his tongue. "They look just as ravishing as I remember, but are certainly not good against a darkspawn blade."

"I happen to be a battlemage, not a spirit healer like the other two."

"Well, what a coincidence. So am I. And I'm used to this. You haven't been into the dark roads before, do me a favour. I don't want to lose any of the recruits _before _the joining."

The way he said _before _made her ears prick up, but she didn't have an opportunity to ask him more, because the group was moving out of the courtyard and into a nearby building and he took off to walk beside the templar recruit, Colin.

They made their way down to the basement of the building, and indeed, there was a large hole that led to a cavern. They picked their way through what looked like an underground city - in ruins, but ruins that were well maintained until they reached a large, round metal door with two grey warden guards posted at it. They saluted.

"Any activity?" Nathaniel asked.

"We can sense some movement on the west fork, ser," one of the guards said. "Not a large group - probably only four or five."

"Should be more than enough," Anders said softly.

"The west fork it is then," Nathaniel said. "Open the doors."

The smell intensified as soon as the door shut behind them. "This is a quick mission," Nathaniel said to them. "We kill this group, then we leave as quickly as possible. The darkspawn sense when we attack them, and often they'll come to investigate if a group of them have been exterminated. We need to be quick, get what we want, and leave."

The recruits didn't say anything. There didn't seem to be anything to say.

"It will take us about half the day to get to the west fork," Anders said. It's a relatively easy journey, but don't touch anything - especially if it looks... unusual. The darkspawn taint is unpredictable. There are things other than darkspawn down here as well, so be on your guard - we can't warn you about those."

Neria found she was walking next to Armand, who had a look of curiosity on his face as he looked at Anders.

"I don't recognise him," he said to her as they walked. "Was he even in the tower before? Did he come from Orlais or something?"

She grinned. "Not with that accent. He was in the tower, just... not very regularly."

Armand looked puzzled.

"Surely you heard of Anders? He was the one who kept escaping...."

The younger elf drew in a sharp breath and his eyes flashed.

"What's eating your goat?" she said.

"Don't you know who he is?" he hissed at her, then rolled his eyes. "Of course you don't."

"I know he ran away a few times."

"The last time he ran away was during Uldred's rebellion," Armand said, almost spitting. "Irving went down there to release the little snake from solitary so he could help us, and he_ ran away."_

She opened her mouth to defend Anders, then shut it. Really her testimony would only hurt the warden mage in any case. Armand and Branwen had been coldly polite to her since her recruitment, but she knew they thought her only one step removed from a maleficar. Still, it was worth letting Anders know what Armand thought about him, especially since he was supposed to be their commanding officer.

They stopped for a brief rest around mid-morning and she managed to sit herself near him.

"I had a little talk with my fellow elf," she said to him as they shared a drink from a water canteen. "He said the last time you left the tower was during Uldred's rebellion."

He had been humming as she spoke, a cheery tune she didn't recognise, but he stopped as soon as she mentioned Uldred.

"Ah," he said. "So you didn't know about my final escape then?"

"I knew you'd escaped. I just didn't know exactly when."

"Yes well." He looked very uncomfortable. "I don't really have much of a defense for that. I saw an escape route and I took it. I'd been in solitary for a year by then." He tapped his forehead. "It does strange things to you, being on your own for that long. I didn't even know why Irving was there to let me out." He grinned sheepishly. "It seemed a waste of good running time to wait for his explanation."

"I'm pretty sure I would have done the same thing in your position," she said frankly. "But that's not why I brought it up. Armand was spitting a bit when he told me about it. I don't think he's pleased to have you as his commander."

"Has a perception of me as a deserter? A failed comrade at arms? A traitor?"

"We lost a lot during that rebellion," she said. "A lot of good mages died."

"I assume you stayed around to help," he said, looking down at his hands.

She snorted. "I didn't have a handy escape route. How _did _you get out of the tower so many times?"

"Trade secret," he said. "Any way, you're out now. You don't need to know."

"I never really thought it was worth running," she said, a little bitterly. "They find you, no matter what you do. And it's worse when they do."

"Ah, but that to have those few brief breaths of free air - it's always worth it."

"Worth a year in solitary?" she said.

His face clouded and he fingered the gold earring he wore for a second before getting to his feet. "Possibly," he said finally. "I'm free now, aren't I?"

"You have a strange definition of freedom."

"You're not the first person to tell me that."


	5. Chapter 5

They were more monstrous than she'd imagined. And bigger. She knew she was small - even for an elf, but the genlocks were short, stocky and massive and the hurlocks were.. just massive. She concentrated on weakening the enemies from afar so that Colin, Nathaniel and Michel could more easily penetrate their defenses - afraid of blasting them with friendly fire more than she thought she would be.

Anders was interesting. He waded into the middle of the battle, using his staff as a mace as well as something to focus his magic. Waves of healing energy pushed outward from him at the same time as offensive magic. He was fast, she gave him that. Very few darkspawn actually got close enough to him to wound him and if they did they were usually repulsed by a glyph or a mind blast.

The other mages concentrated on healing their allies, but really the fight was won by the two wardens. Despite their antagonism toward each other they worked together seamlessly, backing up the other two melee fighters without thinking, leaping to each other's defence whenever there was a gap.

At the end, she was barely breaking a sweat and her mana reserves were still high. The other mages shrugged at her - with Anders in the thick of the battle they were even less fatigued than she was.

Gathering the blood was a little gruesome, but they managed it without getting too gory - she reasoned that the wardens must have done it often enough to make it routine - and they started back up toward the keep.

She found herself watching Anders as they walked. The sort of specificity in spellcasting he had displayed during the battle took practice with a lot of people around you and she knew she would be hopeless at it. She would be mindblasting her allies rather than her foes, draining health and mana from whoever was nearby. She needed to work in a team, she realised, something she'd not done in the tower. It was a shortcoming she felt bitter about admitting to herself. She found herself lingering near the back, thinking about her past four years resentfully. It could have been used so much better, if she'd just accepted her place.

_But then you would have ended up stuck there, _she told herself. _They weren't going to let you go. They wanted you to be useful to them. It was only by not being useful that you managed to get out._

The voice was high and urgent and only just cut through her reverie in time. "Surana! Behind you!"

She spun to face a horror from her worst nightmare. A gigantic spider - black, hairy, all eyes and dripping fangs, poised to leap. It had dropped from a dark patch in the ceiling - probably waiting for a fool such as herself to lag behind enough to be an easy target.

She didn't think, just whipped out her staff and shouted the first spell that came to mind. A fist of stone exploded from her staff and hit the spider between the eyes. She cursed, following up with an arcane bolt and a stinging swarm - sucking her mana almost dry in three steps. She should have cast a cold spell first - she was stupid and lazy and why had she got herself separated from the group in the first place?

But it had been enough. The spider was writhing on the ground, trying fruitlessly to bat the magical bugs away with its legs, stunned and squealing a high pitched, dreadful sound. Nathaniel was there with his dagger, plunging it efficiently into the spider's brain casing as it lay helpless. It twitched once, then died.

The warden sprang to his feet. "These things very rarely come singly," he hissed. Sure enough, there was a chittereing of many feet in the dark. She shivered. He got to his feet and started barking orders. "We'd best get moving. Surana stay with me at the back. Anders up front. The rest of you stay in a group together. _Do not separate out! _They go for the smallest target."

_Me, in other words,_ she thought to herself, cursing her stupidity even more. She wouldn't be surprised if they sent her straight back to the tower after that little performance. "Let's get going."

The rest of the trip was tense. Every now and then they heard the unmistakable sound of pattering feet - the odd hiss. Strands of web that she hadn't even registered on their way down kept brushing at her face and she found she couldn't help shuddering at the thought of what had made them.

"These weren't here when we came down," Nathaniel said to her softly. "The spiders must have sensed us and laid an ambush. They do that sometimes."

"Are they smart enough for that?"

"It seems so. We've had trouble with them before. I'll send Anders back down after the joining and he can burn them out again."

"On his own?"

"Are you volunteering to go with him?" the rogue said, cocking an eyebrow and smiling a little.

"Um... " she jumped as another sticky strand brushed her face. "No?"

Nathaniel gave a soft chuckle. "Don't worry. We don't let our pet apostate out on dangerous missions with no backup. There are a few dwarfs in the keep that know a lot about explosives. They'll help."

"Oh."

"Well done back there, by the way."

_"What?"_

"Most people freeze up the first time they see a giant spider. You would have been overwhelmed and poisoned in no time if you hadn't cast so quickly."

"Ah. Well. It wasn't actually the first time I've seen one...." she stopped. Now wasn't the time to start regaling her commanding officers with tales about her past.

"That explains it then. Still. Good job."

_So, not going to be sent back to the tower then, _she thought. She felt guilty though. "I shouldn't have been so far back," she said in a rush. "It wouldn't have attacked if I'd been with the group."

Nathaniel's eyes crinkled at the edges. "That's right, you shouldn't have been," he said. "But you were, and you coped. And now we know about the spiders and can take action to get rid of them. So look on the bright side." She raised her eyebrows at him. "It's hard, I know. You have to practice it."

She tried a tentative smile and he nodded.

The spiders didn't try to attack them again and she was grateful. The trip back was tense and exhausting, though and she was glad when they finally emerged from the building that housed the entrance.

Commander Sigrun was waiting for them. She said nothing, but gave a nod of acknowledgement as the vials of blood were collected and handed to another mage who slithered - he was that sort of man - away.

"You'll have time to freshen up and change before the ritual," Nathaniel said to the recruits. "Meet us in the audience chamber in an hour."

Anders and Nathaniel walked with them up to the Warden quarters. "So, is this joining a formal affair?" she asked. "Do I have to put on a dress?"

Anders laughed. "Much as I'm all sure we'd enjoy seeing someone as lovely as yourself in all your finery, no. It's not a formal affair in the sense you mean. The ritual is short and you won't be in much of a condition to celebrate afterwards."

Nathaniel shot the mage a warning look and he looked a little sheepish.

The recruits were housed in a series of large rooms in the north wing of the estate - each equipped with between two and four beds. It was kitted out for far greater numbers than were actually present at the keep and she had a room with two beds to herself.

She washed and dressed in a shirt and trousers, then made her way down to the hall. The other recruits were already there - she guessed, like herself, they weren't in any sort of mood to rest or wait. There was a table set up in the centre of the hall that held a single goblet and five amulets. Commander Sigrun, Anders and Nathaniel were all standing behind the table, talking to each other earnestly. Or at least, Sigrun and Nathaniel were talking to each other, Anders was cleaning his fingernails.

It was obvious that the former warden Commander had recruited him for his magical talents and not his personality.

When she entered, Sigrun looked up and smiled. "Let's get started then," she said. "Each of you will be asked to take a drink from the goblet. It contains a mixture of the blood you collected and some other ingredients which will enable you to become grey wardens. There is an element of risk involved," she fixed each of the recruits in turn with her gaze. "Some do not survive the process."

Neria's jaw dropped and she glanced at the other recruits. They all displayed similar expressions. There were rumours, of course, that the joining wasn't a simple ritual, but confirmation was a shock even so. No one likes to hear that there's a possibility of dying looming in the near future.

"We speak only a few words before the joining," Sigrun said. "Nathaniel, if you would?"

The rogue stepped forward. "Join us brothers and sisters, join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day we shall join you."

"Branwen, step forward."

The human mage stood tall and proud as she took the cup from Nathaniel's hands. She sipped, made a grimace, then handed the cup back again. There was a moment when nothing happened, then she doubled over in pain and fell back onto the floor. Anders rushed to her side and felt her forehead. He concentrated for a moment before looking up to Sigrun with a smile.

Sigrun nodded and Nathaniel breathed a sigh of relief.

"Neria, step forward."

She took a step forward, breath coming quickly. No matter that Branwen had survived - the process looked painful and unpleasant even without a grisly death at the end of it. Her hand shook as she reached for the cup and raised it to her lips.


	6. Chapter 6

_Darkness. And menace. And a sound - like a song but without a tune. A humming that filled her bones and made her yearn._

_She was standing on a cliff, looking down into a seething mass of lights. The lights were torches. Here and there she caught a glimpse of a face - distorted, horrible. Fangs dripping with blood or bile, the flash of eyes, a growl. There were so many of them. An endless sea of monstrous faces, filled with hatred. How could they possibly hope to stem such an enormous tide? _

_The wavered and vanished._

_She stood at the edge of a forest. It felt like night, but there was too much light - she could see the outline of every tree. She felt very small, as though she were a child again. A wind started up - so fierce that it bent the trees towards her, whipping her hair around her face and stinging it with cold._

_She was aware of the blackness before he could see it. A formless mass somewhere behind and above the forest. It filled her with dread. Who _was _she to think she could combat it? She had nothing at her command - no magic, no weapons. She was just one woman._

_It was getting closer._

She woke to a face over hers - Anders. She was still in the audience chamber.

"Good," he said. "You're awake. How are you feeling?"

She sat up and winced, throbbing pain making itself known in her head. Her fingers were tingling and her mouth felt like something had crawled into it and died. "Did they put alcohol in that stuff?" she said. "I feel like I've been drinking for a week."

"You lived in the tower and you _know _what that feels like?" he said, chuckling. "You must have been resourceful." There was an undercurrent of pain in his voice and she suddenly remembered the others..

"Did we....?"

His face fell. "We lost Michel," he said sadly. "But the others survived. It's a shame - we sometimes get through a joining without losing anyone."

She remembered how excited and enthused he had been, before they entered the deep roads, and felt a surprisingly strong stab of grief. Anders held out a hand and helped her to her feet. Colin and Armand were still unconscious, but Branwen was standing nearby with Nathaniel close to her. The other mage looked up and gave her a smile that was warm and she found herself responding. No matter what their differences before, they had something significant in common now.

The other two were beginning to stir and Anders moved to them. Once everyone was on their feet, groaning and rubbing their heads, Sigrun addressed them. "The final part of the joining," she said. "We take some of the blood you drank and put it into a pendant. It will help you remember what we have all gone through to get to this point. And hopefully, help you remember those we have lost."

She handed each of them a pendant in turn. Neria could feel the tingle of strong enchantment on it as she turned it over and examined the twin griffons, running her fingers over it before slipping it over her neck.

"You have had a long day," Sigrun said. "Tomorrow you'll be issued with your warden equipment, and there will be a small reception in the evening to celebrate your successful joining. Rest in the meantime - it does take a lot out of you." She gave them a sunny grin that made her look a lot younger than Neria had at first thought. "Welcome among us, brothers and sisters."

Anders accompanied her and Branwen back up to their quarters. "You segregate the sexes?" Branwen asked as they walked.

"Only for convenience," Anders said.

"Whose?" Neria said, a little cheekily she knew, but she was buzzing from the success of her joining.

"Mine, certainly," he replied with a wink. "Seriously, though, most people don't want to share a room with someone of the opposite sex unless they've got to know each other pretty well. We're still short on women recruits, that's why you aren't sharing yet. The boys aren't so lucky."

"Not many women in the wardens?" Neria asked. "Any particular reason?"

"There are a few reasons," Anders admitted, looking a bit more grim. "But we're working on making them less of an issue. Sigrun will probably talk to you about that in the next few weeks."

Branwen bid them goodnight when they reached her door, and Anders accompanied her back to hers. "Why are you so attentive?" she asked. "Not hoping for an invite in are you?"

He laughed easily, but there was a glint of something else in his eyes that made her breath come a little faster. "Only if you offer," he said, then saw her expression and grinned. "No, not tonight. The effects of the joining are unpredictable. We like to make sure our new wardens don't pass out on their way back to quarters. Embarrassing to survive the joining only to fall and crack your head open on the way to your room."

"Rather," she said. "Thanks for your concern."

"Doing my duty," he said as he opened the door for her. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She watched him go thoughtfully, wondering what the exact story behind his joining was. How had Queen Miranda convinced him it was a good idea? Why had _she _thought it was a good idea?

In her head grey wardens had all been like Nathaniel - dour and... well _grey. _Or like Sigrun, stoked with an inner fire - driven. He was the most unlikely grey warden she'd ever thought to come across.

She changed into her nightclothes, still not used to the privacy of her own room, and curled up in the bed, mind racing, head throbbing from the aftereffects of the joining. She thought sleep would be elusive, but it claimed her quickly.

Her last thought was of the nameless dread she had felt in her dream.

* * *

The next day was hectic. She was issued with new mage robes - blue with the warden griffons on the back - a new staff, made of ironbark, no less - much better make than the one she had been issued at the tower, new boots, gloves and nightclothes. A new pack - leather, a bandolier for easy access to potions, a new sling to carry her staff - so much equipment that she was a little amazed.

"The King is very sympathetic to the plight of the wardens," the quartermaster explained. "He remembers being one, you see, and we're allocated quite a lot of funding."

She smiled and staggered back to her quarters under the weight of all the equipment. When she was there she fingered the robes, sensing the enchantments imbedded in the cloth. Strong defense, that was understandable - fire and ice resistance - also understandable. A slight boost to willpower.

They were complex enchantments and expensive to perform. She wondered if the wardens had their own enchanters - were there tranquil or dwarves living in the keep who did it for them? Or did they have it done elsewhere?

She expected the robes to be way too big for her, but they weren't. They must have had standard elvish sizes as well as humans. It seemed the wardens didn't suffer quite so much from the inherent racism of most Fereldens - all the robes she had at the Tower she had had to painstakingly alter herself, despite the fact that the circle of magi probably had more elves in it than any other organisation in the whole country.

It was lunch time when she had finished arranging all her new gear and she found she was absolutely famished. Breakfast had been no small affair - she'd been a little bit daunted by the amount of food on offer for the wardens in the dining hall - eggs and bacon and and six different types of bread and fruit. She'd served herself a normal amount of food and taken her place at a relatively empty bench, but at the end of the meal she'd been astonished to find she needed seconds. The other new recruits were the same, she noticed, furtively going back to the spread to serve themselves again, and she was embarrassed until she noticed the amount of food the other wardens were serving themselves.

A side effect of the joining, she reasoned, because it was obvious they weren't gluttons. There were no fat wardens.

At lunch she served herself twice what she would normally eat and finished it handily. There was still space for more, but she figured the reception in the evening would be just as well catered and decided not to overindulge. Then, somewhat self consciously kitted out in her new gear, she made her way down to the main hall where she was to meet with Anders and the other mages.

Anders spent the afternoon explaining to them their duties. The wardens tended to work in groups of four or five, any more, Anders said, and the darkspawn could sense them too easily. Since the discovery of the extent of the deep roads under Amaranthine there had been too much work for the wardens. Darkspawn had broken to the surface in more places than they could count, and it was taking a long time to track down all the exits that had emerged during the recent fighting.

She discovered the reason there were so few warden mages - Orlais was reluctant to give any of theirs up and the circle mages who had been tested had proved less resilient to the joining than most.

Three had been killed in the deep roads.

"It's not an easy life, or a safe one," Anders said to them. "But believe me when I tell you that _none _of you are expendable. We lost those mages through a combination of stupidity and lack of preparation. We're not going to make that mistake again. The next few weeks will be hard work for you - but hopefully that work will save your skins in the long run."

Her mind was buzzing even more by the time the afternoon came to a close. They had an hour or two of free time before the reception and she spent it in her room, writing in her journal and reading, doing a few simple exercises to remind her why they had recruited her.

When the time came for the reception she found she was ridiculously hungry, to the point of light headedness. She dressed in her only gown and made her way down to the hall.

To her eternal gratitude, there were tables piled high with food and she made straight for them, not thinking about how it might look to the other wardens. She had her mouth conspicuously full when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

She spun round to find Commander Sigrun. The dwarf was only a little bit shorter than her and much, much stronger, and her blue eyes sparkled with mirth as she beheld Neria.

"Hungry?" she said. Neria swallowed an insufficiently chewed mouthful and spent a moment trying not to bring it all up again.

"Sorry, Commander," she said.

"That's all right," the dwarf replied. "We were all like that, at the beginning. My advice is, don't stint. If there's room at lunch, fill in the corners. You need it."

She nodded, eyeing the table again with longing. Sigrun laughed. "I'll leave you two alone, then," she said. "There'll be speeches and things later, but we usually give our recruits time to fill their bellies first."

When she was finally sure she couldn't fit another mouthful in, she looked up to find the room awash in people, dressed in finery. There were dwarves and elves as well as humans, although fewer elves than any others, and surprisingly, they were mostly wardens and not servants. The few servants she did see were a mix of human and elven. In the tower menial jobs were performed by apprentices, but it had never failed to escape her notice that the worst jobs somehow always ended up being assigned to the elves. She had spent a long period of her apprenticeship cleaning out chamber pots, something she still occasionally had nightmares about.

She felt awkward, wearing a dress and playing at a lady. The Tower occasionally had formal functions, but she really wasn't certain what was expected of her, and stood at the table with her hands clenched in front of her for a long time, simply watching.

She spotted Anders eventually, although he was difficult to recognise, dressed in green and brown court clothes rather than his usual warden robes. He cut quite a dashing figure through the room, his blond hair glinting in the candle light. She notice he seemed to make a circuit - stopping to talk with each of the new recruits - perhaps lingering a little longer with Branwen, who blushed prettily at something he said - before reaching her table.

"Is it because you're an elf, or because you're a circle mage that you find it difficult to talk to anyone?" he said to her as he approached. "You've been standing here for nearly an hour."

She was mortified to feel the heat of a blush on her cheeks.

"Perhaps I'm just trying to work out if anyone is _worth _talking to," she said defensively. She noticed he was holding two goblets, and he handed her one.

"I figured you might need some social lubricant," he said, grinning. She looked into the goblet dubiously. "Antivan red," he said. "Very fine. Guaranteed not to send you blind."

"Or make me do anything I might regret later?" she said.

"Only you can decide that, my lady," he said. "One goblet won't hurt, I'm sure. Unless you were lying about knowing what a hangover feels like."

She rolled her eyes. "I wish I were," she said, and took a sip. It _was _a nice red. Smooth and light, with a hint of berry. She felt warmth spread out from her stomach as the first mouthful hit and sighed happily. "Oh, _thank you," _she said. "That _is _nice."

"Mmm. Glad to find a woman who appreciates her wine. Not many here do, unfortunately. The wardens mostly prefer ale or they're stick-in-the-muds like Nathaniel and Sigrun who only drink water."

"Are you trying to line up a drinking companion?" she said.

"Would that be so bad?" he replied, cocking an eyebrow. "At least you can say three sentences without swearing. My last drinking companion was a less than erudite conversationalist."

His words were punctuated by the most revolting sound she had ever heard and she turned to find a red-haired and bearded dwarf standing behind her, grinning the grin of someone who has just expelled wind. Possibly from both ends.

"Speak of the archdemon," Anders sighed. "Neria Surana, may I present Oghren - sometime grey warden, companion of the Hero of Ferelden and disgusting slob."

"Hehe. New recruit eh?" the dwarf leered, but he was so drunk she doubted he could even make out her hair colour. "She's pretty, sparkle fingers."

"And she's also a mage, you smelly dwarf. So don't start."

"Aww, you know what they say about elf mages..."

"They can boil your blood from the inside at the slightest insult?" Anders said, eyebrows raised.

"No.. they can..."

Anders took her arm and steered her away from whatever the dwarf was going to say.

"Hey, I'd quite like to know what he was going to say about us.."

"You really, really don't," he said. "The imagery that dwarf can come up with would make a Qunari blush. May I say, though, that you _do _look lovely this evening."

"Is that what you said to Branwen?" she said.

He chuckled. "No, I was _much_ more inappropriate with her," he said. It seemed impossible to faze the man. "Let's find somewhere to sit where we can.. _not_ hear the speeches."

By the end of the evening she was pleasantly warm and drunk. Anders had proved an entertaining companion - punctuating Sigrun and Nathaniel's welcome speeches with witty comments that nearly got her into trouble. She'd had to stand with the other recruits and be cheered, but that wasn't so bad after the second glass of red was tucked in her belly. There was dancing, which was highly amusing, considering only a few of the wardens knew how and most of them were drunk by that stage. She danced one dance with Anders, who was surprisingly good and steered her skillfully through steps she didn't know, his hand lightly resting on the curve of her hip.

She half expected him to try something at the end of the night, but he simply bowed to her when she said she was going to bed and she tried to quash the little surge of disappointment that threatened the pleasant warmth spreading through her veins.

Being a warden wasn't half bad, she thought to herself as she collapsed in her bed that night. She felt happy and content and had a sense of _belonging _she didn't think she'd ever had in her life before, not even when the Tower had felt like home.

It was a good feeling.


	7. Chapter 7

They weren't to go into the deep roads again for at least a month.

"You each have weaknesses," Anders told the mages the next morning in the hall. "So you'll be working on different things. Surana, I'm assigning you with Nathaniel and Garic for the next little while. They'll teach you a few things about working in a group. Colin will go with you. Branwen and Armand - you'll be training with Oswyn and Martin. We need to buff your defensive spells - they're not good enough to go into the deep roads with yet."

"What will you be doing while we're training?" Armand asked, looking resentful.

Anders cocked an eyebrow at the elf. "Oh, probably wenching, getting drunk and generally making a nuisance of myself, if you must know," he said.

"Anders has other business, warden," Nathaniel had appeared behind the mage. "And it doesn't do to question your superiors, young man." Anders had crossed his arms across his chest and a small smile was playing around his mouth.

"The spiders?" Neria asked.

Nathaniel nodded and gave her a small smile, before beckoning to her to follow him. She looked over her shoulder at Anders and the others as she left, wondering if Armand was going to cause more trouble than he was worth.

Nathaniel was a hard task master. For four years she had been all but left alone to do what she wished with her magic, and although she had been diligent in her study and practice, there was something to be said for having a concrete goal. The warden second-in-command wasn't there with her every day - he had other duties - but Garic was almost as tough, with the added thrill of being an ex-templar. She hadn't realised it until two days into their training, when she was in the middle of focusing a fireball to find her mana inexplicably drained and her spell fizzled.

"You were about to blow up a goodly portion of the keep," Garic's voice came from beside her, his fingers resting lightly on her forearm. "Never a good idea when you're new to the wardens."

"Wha? You're a templar!"

The young man chuckled. "Don't let it get around," he said gruffly. "The old warden commander recruited a fair few of us, after the blight had finished. She missed having King Alistair around when she fought the Mother and the Architect, they say. Anti magic skills are much more useful against darkspawn than the chantry wanted us to believe." She frowned at him. Templars were not on her list of favourite people at the best of times. He held up his hands. "Hey, I was recruited young," he said. "Before I took my vows. I wouldn't have been much use otherwise. The Commander was very particular about not taking Templars who were already pledged."

"So you haven't been off killing mages in your spare time?"

"No," he said. "Just darkspawn. And that's how I like it."

She looked at him for a long moment. He was a big man - blond and beefy, but his brown eyes were kind and she could see he cared about what she thought. "At least you didn't smite me," she said eventually. "I've had that happen before. Not pleasant."

"Oh, you've been smitten, have you?" he said, grinning. She rolled her eyes. "Unusual. You must have been a wild one, for a mage."

"So they tell me," she said. "Shall we get back to it?"

He sighed and readied his sword again. "Together this time, all right? And no burning down the keep."

She laughed.

The King and Queen were due to arrive that a week after her joining. The keep didn't seem to change much in preparation for their arrival, however, and it seemed the King's visits were frequent enough for the wardens not to stand on ceremony. There would be a reception in the evening, so she was told, but apart from that they weren't to see the King and Queen at all during their stay.

She _did _see them arrive, though. From her window, which looked out over the main quadrangle of the keep. The carriage stopped at the gates and four people alighted. It was easy to tell who was the king - his golden armour made him shine in the autumn sunlight, and she assumed the two women were the queen and a lady's maid, although from this far away she had no way of telling who was whom. One of the women was holding a child. The fourth person was a slight male elf with blond hair whose movements reminded her of Ser-Pounce-A-Lot - smooth and sleek and dangerous. Probably their bodyguard.

Nathaniel and Sigrun and a contingent of the Vigil's non-warden guards gave the royal couple a salute which was met by laughter and a short bow from both the King and the woman holding the child - she assumed then that she was the queen - before they were ushered inside.

That night she dressed in her gown again and made her way down to the hall. .

She wasn't familiar enough with the keep, though, and got lost in the corridors on the way. She turned a few times before finally ending up at what appeared to be a dead end. She sighed in frustration, turning to go back the way she had come, when she noticed a breath of wind coming from behind a tapestry. Curious, she pushed the tapestry aside to find a door - a perfectly normal door, but because it was behind a tapestry, she couldn't resist opening it.

It was a perfectly normal empty store room with a perfectly normal Anders sitting in the corner of it with a book and a purring Ser-Pounce-A-Lot in his lap. He looked up guiltily as soon as he heard the door open and she drew in a breath in surprise.

"What are you doing here, ser?" she said.

He made a face. "Um... hiding?" he said.

"From who?"

"It's from whom, actually," he pointed out.

"All right. From _whom?"_

He gave an exaggerated sigh. "From the king, actually," he said. "We don't get on."

"I would think that kings would be the sort of people you _have _to get on with," she said.

"You would think so, wouldn't you," he said, his lips turning down at the corners. "Unfortunately I've got a... way with people."

She sat down next to him and tickled Pounce behind the ears. The cat purred and leaned into her hand. "Don't you think they'll notice that you're not there?"

He shrugged. "Probably," he said. "And no doubt I'll get a lecture from Nathaniel about not fulfilling my duties, and Sigrun will grin that little grin she has that says she can see straight through me, and then it will all go back to normal. I can live with that. But if _you're _not there they definitely _will _notice. So I suggest you get going."

"I'm lost," she said, smiling. "I think I need a guide or I could just end up wandering the halls all night and totally miss the reception."

"I can give you directions."

She lowered her eyelids and fluttered them. "I'll tell Nathaniel you cornered me and..."

He pressed his lips together in anger and amusement. "Don't tempt me," he said, but got to his feet. "If you really need help, I'll take you back to where you won't be lost any more."

She cocked her head on her side and regarded him critically. "You don't strike me as the sort to hide from things," she said.

He laughed. "You _really _don't know me," he said, holding out his hand to help her to her feet. "Hiding is a habit. One that's difficult to get out of."

She stood with his help and ended up very close to him, her eyes level with his chest. Her breath caught as she felt the heat of him and her hand tingled where he touched her. _Neria Surana, _she thought fiercely to herself. _What is wrong with you?_

He seemed to have a similar reaction because when she tilted her head to look up his eyes were sparkling. "You know," he said, his voice reaching a much, _much _lower register. "We could have a lot more fun if we just stayed here." She felt her heart race and her mouth was suddenly dry.

_Commanding officer. Flirty shem. He's just trying to distract you. _

"I'm pretty sure the commander would have words to say about you... caboodling with the new recruits," she said, although the words came out a bit breathless.

He let out a breath. _"Caboodling?" _he said. "That's a term I've not heard before." He dropped her hand and took a small step back. She had to stop herself from leaning forward.

"Come to the reception," she said, wondering why it was so important to her to have him there. "I don't have anyone else to dance with."

He shrugged helplessly. "How could I refuse such a paragon of loveliness?" he said. He looked down at his clothes - the same green and brown set he'd worn for the previous reception, and brushed a few ginger hairs from it. She resisted the urge to smooth wrinkles on his shirt - why _did _her hands want to touch him so much? She hadn't felt this way since.... Tobias and _that _was before Jowan....

That thought pushed the tingles out of her. They were both dead now. Dead, or as good as.

"Let's go then, ser," she said. He looked puzzled at the change in her tone, but allowed himself to be led out of the room and down towards the main hall.


	8. Chapter 8

They were probably among the last to arrive. Nathaniel was standing near the door and his eyebrows raised when he saw them. Anders was uncharacteristically fidgety and made straight for the food without looking towards the end of the room where the King and Queen were. Although she was quite keen to get a look at the Hero of Ferelden, she stuck next to Anders, thinking that if she wasn't there to pin him down he would just leave again. She did manage to ascertain that the Queen was dark haired and quite short and the King tall and imposing.

"Why don't you get on with them?" she asked Anders as he piled a plate with food.

He didn't turn to face her. "It's not _them_. It's _him."_

"Why don't you get along with _him, _then?"

"Anders!" came a light female voice from behind her. "You've been hiding."

It was a good thing he hadn't had time to put any of the food on his plate into his mouth, she thought, or he may well have splattered the Queen and Hero of Ferelden with masticated pulp in shock.

"Your majesty," he said instead, looking incredibly guilty. "I was just.. ah.. helping one of the new recruits find her way here."

The Queen cocked her eyebrow - very prettily Neria had to admit - with a knowing look on her face, and turned to Neria. "I hope Anders isn't being inappropriate with the new mages," she said, the knowing look turning into a smile. Neria looked up into clear grey eyes that sparkled with intelligence and humour. Not what she had imagined when she thought of the woman who had plunged her sword into the archdemon and stopped the blight. Not what she expected at all.

"No, your majesty," she said, dropping a small curtsey. She had not met royalty before, so she wasn't exactly certain of the protocol.

"Please," the Queen said. "We're all wardens here. You don't need to curtsey to me."

She glanced at Anders for confirmation, the last thing she wanted was to offend this woman, and realised suddenly why he didn't get on with the king. Her heart constricted in her chest. He was looking at the Queen the same way Tobias used to look at her... back when he'd been alive, before he knew she felt the same way...

The Queen seemed oblivious to his longing, though. Or if not oblivious, at least unaffected.

"As you wish, your majesty," she said then, coldly formal. "You probably have a lot to talk about with Anders," she continued. "I'll just... " she fled, thinking to find some of that Antivan red and possibly drink a barrel of it.

* * *

The queen looked puzzled. "Did I scare her off?" she said. Anders watched the retreating form of Neria, as puzzled as she looked.

"She's not the type to scare easily," he said. "After all that effort to get me to come down here too. I wonder what happened?"

"Were you not going to show up?" Miranda said. He started guiltily. "Oh, Anders, for Andraste's sake. Alistair isn't going to bite your head off. He's a nice person."

"Yes. Well. That's part of the problem." She laughed and punched his arm lightly. "Ow," he said. "You wound me. How's little Duncan doing?"

Her smile softened into something he'd never seen before. "He's just lovely," she said.

"Apart from the constant night waking, the poo and the screaming, yes, he's absolutely adorable," Alistair said, coming up to them. Anders forced himself to smile at the King and sketch a quick bow. "Anders, it's good to see you."

"Mmm," he replied, not as non-committedly as he could. Damn the man. He was so... tall and well built. It had to be a crime somewhere.

"Who was your friend? One of the new wardens?"

"Yes," Anders said. "I should probably find her, actually. She left a bit abruptly."

Alistair put his arm around his wife's - _his wife's - _shoulders and nodded. "Well, don't let us keep you," he said, as Miranda looked up at him and smiled that damnably happy smile of hers that he'd only ever seen directed at Alistair. Anders bowed again and turned away before the King caught his unimpressed sneer, searching the room for the small figure of Neria.

Why _had _she run off like that?

He searched the room, but couldn't find her. At one stage, he saw her speaking to Nathaniel, but by the time he got there, she'd disappeared again. _What _had he done to offend her? She'd seemed so flirty and nice and....

....right up until she'd seen the queen.

He must have looked like a complete idiot. Standing in the middle of the room with his mouth open in realisation. Did he _still _look at her like that? He remembered Oghren teasing him about it. Remembered the few pointed looks he'd gotten from Alistair early on in their recent trip. He'd spent a long time getting a handle on those emotions, only to let them out the very next time he saw her? Right when there was a woman around who actually made him think of something _other _than his stupid taste....

He really was a fool.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Neria again and she was _talking to the king _and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to shoot lightning at the entire room. _Sod it, _he thought to himself, and spun on his heel to go back to Ser-Pounce and his very interesting, not at all escapist book.

* * *

The dreams were getting worse. Every night now, wardens were complaining that the menace was growing. But expeditions into the deep roads were turning up nothing.

Sigrun had called the King and Queen to a meeting with her and Anders and Nathaniel.

"We've been having them as well," Miranda said, cradling a sleeping Duncan in her arms. The six-month old was remarkably quiet and well behaved, Anders thought. Mind you, his experience with children was not exactly extensive.

"Nothing like with the Architect," Alistair continued. "Also nothing like the Blight, but you weren't wardens then, you wouldn't know. These are.. different. And unsettling."

"The new recruits said they saw the darkspawn horde first, after their joining. Then the dream moved onto what we've all been having," Nathaniel said. "It's something different. But our patrols report only regular darkspawn groupings, no matter how far into the roads we go."

"It's not more of the Architect's creations then?" Miranda said. "We know we didn't get them all."

"It's possible," Sigrun said. "But it just feels.. different."

"Like it's waiting for something," Anders said. "Not even the talking darkspawn had that sort of intent. I got the feeling the only one who had any concept of consequences was the architect himself. The rest of them were just sort of... on the wagon, so to speak."

Miranda was nodding, as was Sigrun.

"Well, until it actually acts against us, I don't see how you can do anything more, Sigrun," Miranda said.

The dwarf looked frustrated and Anders grinned. "I know you just want to go down there and kill every darkspawn you see, Commander. But we have people for that now."

The former legionnaire tugged one of her pigtails and smiled a little at that. "So I do. It just seems wrong to send others down there when I could be going myself."

Nathaniel put his hand on her arm. "Let's hope we don't get to that point," he said.

As they left Miranda handed Duncan to Alistair, who took the child with practiced ease, and she fell into step beside Anders.

"Did you find your friend, last night?" she said to him.

He frowned. "No," he said shortly. "I think she's avoiding me, actually."

"Already? That's fast work, even for you my friend."

He clenched his teeth. "You do take delight in tormenting me, your majesty."

"Of course," she said, giving him a grin. "It's part of my reason for existing. Alistair and I had a chance to talk to her later on in the night - after you'd so significantly disappeared. She seems like an excellent warden. A very powerful mage."

"She is," he said. "She just needs to work on her teamwork. She spent the last four years out of favour in the tower."

"Really? Why?"

"She helped a blood mage escape. Just before the blight apparently. They weren't too impressed with her."

Miranda stopped and looked at him curiously. "Just before the blight you say?"

He nodded. She looked thoughtful. "Never a good thing, blood magic," she said softly.

"She said she didn't know he was a blood mage. They were going to make him tranquil, so she helped him. He was her friend, apparently."

She nodded. "Well. I don't think all blood mages are necessarily evil. Sometimes they're just compelled by circumstance. It's a good thing you never turned to it, actually."

He shrugged. "I have this thing about stabbing myself," he said. "Not fun. Other people can do that to me if they feel the need. Although I like to make it difficult for them."

Miranda grinned, but slowed her steps a little so that Alistair and Duncan were out of earshot. "Are you all right?" she asked then, softly. "You disappeared last night.."

He let out a short breath. "Just fine," he said. "I had some reading to catch up on."

"Anders," she laid a hand on his arm, coincidentally exactly where a giant spider had sunk its fangs just a few days before. He hissed and pulled it back. The look of hurt on her face was piercing.

"Ah," he said. "Sorry. Got bitten. Clearing out giant spiders from the deep roads." He pushed up his sleeve to reveal the puncture wounds. She widened her eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said.

"It's healing," he said, shrugging.

"I hope so."


	9. Chapter 9

Neria was cold to him whenever he saw her these days. Although her training was progressing excellently, according to Nathaniel, he felt like he'd failed her. After the King and Queen departed - promising to return if anything developed regarding the constant dreams - he thought things might improve - but if anything they got worse. She sat with Armand and some of the other elven wardens at meal times, always managed to find something else to do whenever he was in her vicinity and answered enquiries with as few syllables as she could manage. It was maddening.

To make matters worse, the new human mage, Branwen, seemed to think he was free game. Granted, he hadn't been exactly.... bashful.... on his first few meetings with her, but he hadn't realised she'd taken his casual flirting as an indication of his true intentions. She was pretty enough, with her long blonde hair and wide blue eyes - and at any other time he would have appreciated the attention. Now, however, with the dreams keeping him short on sleep and the complete hash he'd made of - whatever it was between him and Neria - it was merely annoying.

Neria was right, as well. "Caboodling", as she put it, was frowned upon by the wardens. Although it couldn't be stopped, if it wasn't handled discreetly Sigrun was liable to come down on the unfortunate pair like a Mabari with poor impulse control.

Anders had been on the receiving end of one of her little speeches and he didn't want to repeat the experience. But when his dreams were not of the brooding menace and the forest, he was plagued by a pair of large dark eyes in an elfin face and inappropriateness in a small storeroom in a forgotten corner of the enormous keep.

He'd had a few embarrassing mornings.

In the end it was their first real trip to the deep roads that threw the two of them together again.

After a month of training the new recruits were deemed ready enough to go on their first real mission. From what he had heard, Neria had shown remarkable adaptability and skill in her training - throwing herself into it with an enthusiasm rarely matched in their recruits. The other two mages had improved considerably and Colin the templar had even managed to be in the same room with them without twitching. Garic's influence, Anders was certain. The blond Templar was an excellent people person.

He had to admit that he arranged the party with some thought of getting her alone to try to sort things out between them - but it was a logical arrangement as well. He would be healer - Garic would be their sword and shield and Gabrielle - an elvish rogue, would handle stealth and archery. Neria would be their battlemage. He told himself it was a way to see exactly how well she was going with her training. It was, in part, the truth.

"What's the plan?" Garic asked as Anders approached. They were at the guarded door to the deep roads, along with the other three parties. Each party had only one new recruit. Lessons had been learned on that score - the deep roads had unpredictable effects on some people.

"Four groups going down," Anders replied. "We're on reconnaissance - still trying to track down our nameless, hulking dream friend. There's not much movement at the moment, according to the gate guards, so we should be able to get a fair way without a fight."

"I have a question," Neria said.

"Yes?"

"What if this thing we're all dreaming about isn't even in Ferelden? There are darkspawn everywhere, aren't there?"

"True," Anders said. "But nowadays there are also wardens everywhere. If it's not in Ferelden the other wardens will deal with it."

She nodded.

"We wouldn't be dreaming about it if it wasn't a threat to us, lass," Garic said. "So even if its not here now, it may well be soon."

"What he said," Anders added. "The Orlesian wardens didn't dream of the Architect, as I recall. Maybe they would have if he'd managed to branch out any further."

"They dreamt of the blight though, didn't they?" Neria asked.

"Indeed yes," Gabrielle said softly. "We dreamt of the blight. All dream of the blights, when they come."

The Orlesian elf's soft voice was grim and Anders remembered that she was probably one of the oldest wardens they had in Ferelden. He shuddered, thinking suddenly of the inevitable end to all wardens' lives. Although they had lost several wardens from Amaranthine over the past few years, there had been no Callings. He wondered at himself, that he could find the prospect of enduring the Calling worse than the possibility of early death.

He covered his discomfort with a grin. "Are we ready then?" he asked. They all nodded.

He was getting used to the deep roads - at least that's what he told himself. He spent enough of his time down here after all. The first few times he'd had to repeat a litany to himself _it's better than the tower _but that need had worn off. It _was _better. He had no templar breathing down his neck, waiting for him to explode or turn into an abomination or break wind or whatever it was they were so paranoid about. He could go to Amaranthine and have a quiet drink without being dragged off to the nearest cell by irate soldiers.

And occasionally, he got to shoot lightening at things. Always a plus.

These days he was as familiar with the first few miles of the roads as it was possible to get. The four groups split fairly early. Anders group took the north fork, away from where the spider's nest had been. Each expedition out from the keep had ventured further than the last, and warden supply dumps were hidden in strategic places. Their aim this time was to go further in the hope of encountering some sort of clue to exactly what they were facing.

This current expedition was supposed to last a week. They had supplies for that long, plus some extra to leave at the supply dumps. It made for tough going at first, considering the amount of weight they were carrying, and Anders decided there wasn't much point in trying to talk to Neria under those conditions.

By the second day, however, they'd shed some of their weight and were traveling more briskly. He fell into step behind Neria as they walked. "You've been avoiding me," he said softly.

She flashed him a look that was full of irritation. "What if I have?"

"Didn't we have this talk about being polite to your superiors?"

"So you're my _superior _now, are you?"

"Andraste's knickerweasles. You don't make it easier for a person."

"I wasn't aware it was necessary to make things _easy _for anyone."

"Could you just _tell _me what I did to make you hate me? I thought we got along..."

She stopped and faced him, putting her hands on her hips and staring up at him with those eyes... Maker, even when she hated him he found her sexy. This was becoming stupid. What was it with him and women who didn't want him?

"You could have told me you were involved with someone else," she said.

"Involved?" _now _he was even more confused. Did she mean Branwen? But the other mage had only started flirting seriously with him _after _the King and Queen had left...

"I saw how you looked at her."

"You think... with the _queen?_"

"As good as. Even if it's one sided, it's still _involvement. _What were you planning? A quick tumble with the elf to take your mind off her?"

"Maker's breath. I'm not _that _kind of person...." A few notable encounters in the past few years flashed - not entirely unpleasantly - in front of his eyes. _You used to be, _his mind said. Something of his thoughts must have shown in his face because she raised an eyebrow.

"_Sure _you're not," she made a disgusted face. "Human men are all the same."

"You've been hanging out with Armand too much," he said.

There was a cough from in front of them and he looked up to see both Garic and Gabrielle standing well within earshot. Garic was grinning. Gabrielle was glaring. Anders suddenly had an urge to blast them both with a cone of cold. He curbed it. "What?" he said instead.

"Darkspawn," Gabrielle said. "About an hour off."

He should have felt it. He should have been the first to feel it. Technically, he was in charge of this expedition. _Yet another reason why I need to find a mage more capable of leadership than I am, _he thought to himself. He forced himself to sound calm, as if he hadn't just been having a... fight? Discussion? with a mage who was supposed to be under his direct command. "How many?" he asked Gabrielle. She was the most experienced and best able to distinguish numbers. He reached out with his own senses but only got a faint idea - more than five, certainly.

"At least ten," Gabrielle said. "And they're moving this way."

Ten was bad. Ten was more than twice their number, and more than he would have hoped to encounter this close to the keep. He didn't know this area quite as well as some of the others in the deep roads and he pulled his map from his pack, spreading it on the ground between them.

"There's a cavern here," he said, pointing to a spot about an hour away. "Do we have time to reach it? We can set up some traps and hopefully reduce their numbers a bit before they engage."

Gabrielle concentrated. "If we hurry," she said. "We'll make it. But we might not have time for fortifications."

"I'll haste us," Neria said, all business suddenly. Anders nodded. He wasn't the best at buffering spells, and haste drained him more than most, but if Neria thought she could sustain it for the trip to the cavern it would save them a good half of that time. Enough for Gabrielle and he to set up some interesting traps for the darkspawn.

Neria concentrated for a moment, then lifted her staff and Anders felt the familiar rush of adrenalin and magic that came with the spell.

"You'd better lead the way, Ser," Garic said. He nodded and set off.

Movement under haste was always unnerving and took some getting used to. One constantly felt that one's heart and lungs were moving too fast - the body thought it was enough to make the head spin, and it was sometimes hard to keep balance. But after a few minutes they settled into a ground eating stride. It was exhilarating to move so quickly without feeling out of breath and he found himself wanting to laugh with the freedom of it. _This _was what made his life better than the Tower. He looked across at Neria, whose eyes were sparkling and mouth was parted, obviously feeling much the same as he. She glanced back at him and grinned - a feral grin with a lot of the wild about it that hit him in the pit of the abdomen. _Oh, you've got it bad,_ he thought to himself as he ran.

They reached the cavern and Neria released the spell, gasping a little as she did so. "I'll need to rest," she said, and found a boulder to lean against while she caught her breath. Anders glanced at Gabrielle.

"They're still coming this way," she said. "We've got about half an hour."

"Let's set to work then."


	10. Chapter 10

The thing about darkspawn that she was beginning to learn was that they had _no subtlety. _Hardly surprising from a species that didn't seem to be able to communicate in more than a few grunts and growls, but she wondered why it was they bothered with weapons and armour. The emissaries could talk, she knew, but only in their twisted language that bore no resemblance to the human or elven tongues, and she suspected they were never saying much beyond "Kill that."

They rushed into the cavern. Two were paralyzed by Anders' glyphs. Three were caught in various leghold traps. Gabrielle calmly started to pick them off with her bow.

There was a hurlock emissary behind them who was the real problem, it would cast spells on them from a distance. A few genlock archers stayed back from the entrance and tried to pin them with arrows, but the angle was wrong.

Anders cast crushing prison on the emissary and then the two of them concentrated on killing the archers. It was a remarkably efficient slaughter and Neria had time to admire the skill displayed by all three of her fellow wardens. Even though Garic was only involved in the battle near the end, when he finished off the emissary once Anders' prison had worn off.

They didn't need to heal, even, once it was over. All they were left with was the ravenous hunger haste tended to cause and they thought nothing of sitting amongst the darkspawn corpses to have an early lunch.

"We'll have to get moving pretty quickly," Anders said, between mouthfuls of bread. "They feel when we kill them. They'll send more." He looked a little disappointed. "This will make the rest of the journey more difficult, I'm afraid. I hoped to get further before any engagements. We might have to turn back earlier."

Garic shrugged. "Not much we can do about it," he said.

"True."

They finished their lunch and packed up to leave. Neria found herself next to Anders as they collected gear and she felt his hand on her shoulder. She resisted the urge to throw it off - or lean into it. She didn't know which was stronger.

"Before we go," he said softly. "I'm sorry if I offended you earlier. I.. guess I understand how you feel."

She looked up at him. "I doubt it," she said.

He rolled his eyes. "Ok, fine. I don't understand how you feel. But I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... lead you on. And the thing with the queen..." he sighed. "That's _my _problem. It would never affect anyone else I was.. uh... involved with."

She raised her eyebrow. "You think that," she said. "If it makes you feel better." She tapped his chest with a small finger. "But there's not enough room in there for two. I don't take half serves of anything."

He chuckled. "Nooo," he drawled. "I imagine not."

She rolled her eyes. "Let's just get going. We've got darkspawn to kill."

The following morning they got their first hint of what they might be looking for. They'd been walking for about an hour when Anders caught her elbow. "Can you feel that?" he asked her softly.

"Feel what?" she said. She'd been grumpy all morning - the previous night's dreams had been intense and all four of the wardens had tossed and turned in their bedrolls. Very little sleep was gotten. On watch she'd felt like there were bugs under her skin - she still felt a little bit like that.

"Stop and concentrate for a moment," he said.

She sighed irritably and did as he asked, reaching out with her senses. At first she felt nothing except the ever present feeling of the taint. A few groups of darkspawn, far enough away not to be a threat... then...

_there. _

"Oh, holy Andraste," she swore softly. "The veil. It's torn."

Anders looked grim. "I thought so." He called a halt. They sat on the edge of the road, and Anders sunk his head down to his chest in thought. He looked at a loss. "I suppose the question is if we continue on or go back to the keep. I'm not overly keen on going into an area where the veil is torn without more magical backup - but the mages we have are not exactly experienced with this sort of thing."

"I am," Neria said. "I was in the Tower when Uldred had his rebellion, remember?"

"I've been in places where the veil was thin as well," Anders said. "But the others - they probably haven't."

"Branwen and Armand were still apprentices," she said. "They were there.. but...."

He tugged at his earring, then glanced up at Gabrielle and Garic. "Are you willing to risk going further? I get the feeling this might be what we've been dreaming about, and we need to find out as much as possible if we can."

Garic nodded firmly, but Gabrielle looked distant. "I am uncertain," she said. "We.. I have been where the veil is thin, once before. It was not pleasant. Shall we expect undead? Abominations? Demons?"

"Undead, certainly," Neria said, "there are definitely enough corpses down here. No wood for pyres."

"Great," Anders said. "Walking corpses. And I haven't even thought about lunch yet. Well, just so we're clear on what we'll be facing."

She found herself thinking of her harrowing as they walked. She didn't like the fade. She knew some mages who found it fascinating - willingly entered it to study its workings, but she found it eerie and unsettling and sometimes downright terrifying. The thought of the fade leaking into the real world - in the deep roads when they were _already _surrounded by darkspawn, made her shudder.

As they got closer to the area Neria kept thinking she could see things out of the corner of her eye. The darkness in the deep roads was not as complete as she had expected - there was luminous moss in the places where water dripped and the occasional vein of lyrium cast a blue glow. Still, they needed the light from her and Anders' staffs in order to see properly and the shadows flickered and seemed to live independently from them.

Anders didn't try to talk to her again and she was grateful. She was also flattered that he'd tried to make things better between them. She probably _had _overreacted to be honest - it wasn't as though he'd actually tried anything with her - but the few times she'd been involved with human men it had never turned out well. Only Jowan had never seemed to expect the sort of casual liaison the other human mages had. She'd always thought it was because he swung the other way - until there was Lily.

In a sense, seeing him with Lily had made her appreciate him more. He was a true friend - one who didn't look at her and think "knife ear" or "girl". Thinking about it now, picturing his blank, tranquil face, made her miss him all the more.

Tobias - well Tobias had been an elf like her. _Not as strong, though, _she thought. She didn't really want to think about him. Not now any way. Not with a tear in the veil so close. She closed her eyes and had a flash of walking corpses and abominations and the screams of apprentices beyond Wynne's barrier.

"Are you all right?" Garic asked her as they stopped at a crossroads. She'd come to like the ex-templar in their weeks together and she gave him a weak grin.

"A bit nervous," she admitted. "The last time the veil was torn around me I lost a lot of.... " she wanted to say friends, but by that stage - well, she really hadn't had any. "I lost a lot," she finished instead.

Garic clapped her on the shoulder. She staggered a little under the force of it. "I don't blame you, lass," he said. "But we'll deal with it. It takes more than a tear in the veil to stop wardens."

_Exactly how much more? _she thought to herself. _Because there are darkspawn as well, you know. Not to mention giant spiders and deep stalkers and Andraste knows what else._

_Now your just _trying_ to make yourself frightened._

Anders' tight voice came from ahead of them. "It's just up here," he said, pointing down to the left of the crossroads. "We _look _only. Try not to engage. Gather information and _leave."_

"Aye, ser," Garic replied. Gabrielle nodded stiffly and Neria swallowed. They started down the corridor.


	11. Chapter 11

The corridor reached a ledge that looked down onto a wide cavern, deep and bathed in a pale, sickly light. They were in an excellent position for observation - out of sight unless someone (or something) looked directly up at them.

Upon seeing what was down there, Anders had time to really, _really _hope nothing did that.

The cavern was full of corpses. Piles of them. The stench was overwhelming. At first, he couldn't make out if there was anything else - the tear in the veil let light through, but it also distorted the air and details were difficult to distinguish. Gabrielle nudged him and pointed to the corner of the cavern, where a dark hole in the wall indicated another entrance. A slow, burdened figure appeared, carrying another corpse which it added to the pile already heaped in the cavern. Anders flicked his eyes over the remaining area and caught the edges of similar movement from two other entrances. They were collecting corpses from the deep road and bringing them to where the veil was at its thinnest.

The moving figures were darkspawn, he was certain of it. Genlocks, from their short stature.

"What are they doing?" he heard Neria breathe next to him.

_Nothing good, _he thought to himself. Corpses so close to a tear in the veil - there was every chance they would be possessed by demons seeking entrance into the waking world.

Every chance - or perhaps that was the intention? Someone - something was gathering the corpses here, there was no doubt about that. He chewed on a fingernail, suddenly nervous.

"Does the phrase 'army of undead' occur to anyone else here?" Anders asked. "Those corpses are vessels waiting to be filled with demons from the fade. Someone wants to flood the deep roads with the walking dead."

"Who?" Neria asked.

He pondered. "A blood mage? Maybe? But they usually don't have the power to tear the veil. Not to this extent, anyway."

"There's no way of telling how long the veil has been torn for," Neria said. "It could have happened years ago."

Anders shook his head. "We would have felt it. I've been this far down before once or twice."

"What can we do?" Gabrielle asked. "We can't just leave them here."

"We can fireball the lot of them," Neria said. "That would make it difficult for them to rise as an army."

He looked at her. She had a fierce expression on her face that reminded him of Pounce when he'd been threatened. A big explosion. Lots of fire and destruction. "Sounds good to me," he said.

"Wouldn't that only delay things?" Garic said. "There's Maker knows how many corpses down here. We need to find out why they're doing this. And if we fireball them whoever is doing this will know we're onto them."

"If we leave them there's a chance there'll be an army of undead at the Vigil's gate tomorrow morning," Anders said. "We need to get rid of these ones _now _while we have the chance."

Garic shrugged. "If you say so, boss," he said. "But we're going to attract the attention of every darkspawn in the deep roads."

He looked at Neria. "We might be calling on your hasting abilities again," he said. "I can firestorm the cavern, but we'll need to make a quick exit afterwards."

She nodded. He looked at Gabrielle and Garic. It was going to be a harrowing retreat through the roads. They were mostly fresh, but he worried that their reserves had been debilitated over the past few weeks from the dreams. He didn't doubt their abilities, but if it came to a straight up fight against superior numbers they would be in trouble.

"Ready?" he asked them. They nodded. "Then stand back."

He gathered his mana reserves and concentrated. Firestorm was a complicated spell, and draining, but they needed the sustained heat it would produce rather than the more simple fireball if they were to destroy the corpses. Just reducing them to fleshless skeletons wouldn't be enough. Demons possessed _them_ just as readily as they did the freshly dead.

_I'm going to pay for this,_ he thought to himself.

He focused his will through his staff - the volcanic aurum thrumming with his power. He would have to make this the most powerful casting he possibly could. He threw back his head, letting the spell course through him, feeling the familiar wild joy building up - that feeling he'd never been _allowed _to use while in the Tower. Boundaries - he had always hated them. As the power reached a crest so intense as to be almost sexual, he felt something - a presence, malignant and powerful, take note of him with an appraising eye. As he let the spell release, together with the clean thrill of success he felt a chill of foreboding.

The cavern exploded with flame and he sank to his knees, gasping for air. He felt Garic's hands on his shoulders, helping him to his feet. "Ser, we need to go."

He nodded once, feeling light headed. Neria's spell hit then and the lightheadedness turned to a rush not unlike the feeling he got from drinking too many lyrium potions in one go.

"Wow," he said softly. "Headrush. I should do that more often."

"Sometime when we're not about to be swamped by darkspawn," Neria said, tugging on his sleeve.

They started to run.

Sure enough, almost immediately after they started moving, Gabrielle reported movement from the darkspawn. "Only one group, so far," she said. "But there are at least twenty of them."

"They'll gather more," Garic said as they ran. Anders didn't have the energy to respond. They would need to reach the keep and rally the rest of the wardens. He hoped Sigrun didn't dress him down for stirring them up.

He thought of the number of corpses who had been in the cavern. _No,_ he thought._ We did what we had to. _Better an army of darkspawn than an army of darkspawn _and _corpses. If Neria could sustain her haste they should be back at the keep within a day - at least a day ahead of the darkspawn, enough time for the wardens to arrange a defense.

If he could just keep up the pace.

* * *

There was a hammering at the gates - the warden code. It was the fourth time this morning. All of the recent groups were returning - reporting darkspawn on the move towards the keep. Sigrun had been waiting for this final group, hoping that they had some sort of idea what exactly had caused the sudden rush. Nathaniel's group had reported that the 'spawn were at least a day away, and coming from the direction Anders had gone. She was gripped by worry - the blond mage was a pain in a lot of ways, but his talents and support had been invaluable to her in the past year, and the thought of losing him to the 'spawn had her sword arm twitching and her legionnaire's heart aching.

It should be _her_ down there. She'd had her funeral. She was _dead._ Logically she knew she could do more against the darkspawn as warden commander than she ever could as one legionnaire, but every now and then she'd look at a warden and see the face of one of her dead companions and realise that she had forsaken her oath.

She was a surfacer now.

The gate guards opened the door and she let out a huge sigh of relief. Anders, Garic, Neria and Gabrielle were there. Alive. Anders gave her his customary cheery grin, before collapsing face down in the doorway. The little elf mage, Neria, immediately crouched down next to him, although looking at her Sigrun was surprised she hadn't collapsed the same way Anders had.

All four of them had deep, dark circles under their eyes and looked more drained than the other groups had.

"Gabrielle?"

The elf rogue saluted. "Commander. Darkspawn on the move to the keep."

"I'm aware, warden," Sigrun said. "What happened?"

"A tear in the veil," Neria said, from next to Anders. "There was a tear in the veil. Something was gathering corpses to be possessed - we had to burn them or there would be more than darkspawn coming for us."

"Commander, there are at least fifty darkspawn coming up behind us," Gabrielle said. "Have the other groups reported back?"

"They checked in not long ago," Sigrun said. "Same reports as you gave, leaving aside the details about the veil."

"Anders can tell you more," Neria said. "But he needs rest. We had to haste it all the way here to stay ahead of the spawn. He's exhausted."

"Understood," Sigrun said. She nodded to two of the gate guards, who secured the gate and gathered Anders up to take him to his quarters.

"Is the keep prepared?" Gabrielle asked.

"We're in the process," Sigrun said as they walked towards the keep. "Just waiting for your group to come back before we set traps in the closest corridors. It's a good thing we spent so long sealing all the other exits - there really isn't any other way they can get at us. Should be a straightforward slaughter at the gate."

Gabrielle nodded. "Good," she said.

"You the rest of your group should get some rest, not just Anders," she said, stopping and placing her hand on Gabrielle's arm. "The rest of us can handle this."

The rogue nodded, looking ahead to the guards carrying the human mage.

Garic came up next to her. "They were both amazing, Commander," he said. "Two of the most powerful mages I've ever seen. Anders completely destroyed those corpses - he used all of his mana reserves, but he _still_ managed to get back to the keep." He chuckled good naturedly. "It's a damn good thing that boy never did become a malificar - the templars would never have caught him. And Neria sustained haste for an entire day without stopping - you wouldn't think such a little body could hold so much. We wouldn't have made it back without them, ser. And you'd probably be facing an army of walking dead."

She smiled at the ex-templar. "I get Anders is talented," she said dryly. "Why else do you think we've put up with him for so long? If only we could teach him to be less..."

"Flippant?"

"I wouldn't put it that way, Garic. But something of the sort, yes. And I'm glad Neria is shaping up well. We _need _more mages. That damn rebellion and the number we lost during the blight has left a gaping hole in the Ferelden wardens. _Five _mages? Out of nearly two hundred wardens? It's ridiculous."

"Why won't Orlais send more?" Garic said, looking at Gabrielle. The elf frowned.

"Orlais is... protective of its mages," she said softly. "Our chantry - it is more powerful than yours. We have more mages, yes, but we also have many more apostates. The templars are more numerous and tend to..."

Garic raised an eyebrow. "Smite first and ask questions later?"

Gabrielle gave one of her rare smiles. "Something of that nature, yes."

"Maybe we should send an expedition there," Sigrun said, frowning. "Offer amnesty to your apostates and bring them back as wardens."

Gabrielle looked shocked. "I do not think the Empress would be very happy about that, Commander."

She grinned up at the elf. "I'm kidding," she said. _Only partly, _she thought privately. Anders had proved that some apostates made excellent wardens. "But it _is _a real problem." She sighed. _Another _real problem. One that she had no solution for. Well, at least Nate was handling the nobles well these days. She hadn't had to face a court hearing for months. "Get, you two," she said to Gabrielle and Garic. "You need to rest. You're out of this battle for now."

The two wardens bowed deeply to her and departed. She stood for a moment in the courtyard of the keep, looking up at the statue of Andraste. Humans and their gods. She didn't understand them. Why worship someone so patently uninterested in you? It didn't make any sense to her.

She fingered the duster mark on her cheek and sighed. She didn't know why Miranda had landed her with this job, but she was going to do it, and do it well. The keep would not fall to darkspawn under _her _command.

She started back up to her study.


	12. Chapter 12

_He was sitting on the edge of a cliff, with Pounce in his lap, drinking in sea air. He'd only been to the coast a few times (and usually only briefly) but he'd loved the feel of the cool breeze in his hair and the sense of boundless possibilities an open ocean presented. Somewhere in Thedas they didn't have Templars. At some point they would give up looking for him._

_He knew, in that way that mages do, that he was in the Fade - asleep. The dichotomy of being in two places at once - mentally - to be back before he was free of the Tower but have Pounce - one of the symbols of his freedom, in his lap - one got used to these things. Used to being two or even more than two people._

_He knew he was dangerously exhausted, that this sleep was important, so he found himself here, in the space where he was most happy. _

_The presence made itself felt gradually - as a creeping tension in his neck. When Pounce sat up and hissed he whipped his head around to see the familiar forest of all the warden's dreams. The light changed and he felt the brooding menace from the darkness accost him once again. _

_This time, it was different. This time it was specifically aimed towards him. This time it recognised him._

_

* * *

_

He woke to darkness and the sounds of battle. _Andraste's knickers, _he thought. _I must have slept for a whole day. _He sat up slowly, resisting the urge to rush to his window and look down. If he could _hear _it then the darkspawn must have slipped around the wardens defending the gate and that was not good news.

"Relax, ser," came a voice from beside the bed. It was a male servant, he didn't recognise him. Obviously been sent here to keep an eye on him. They wouldn't have been able to spare a warden for the job. "The Commander requested I tell you that the situation is under control."

"But they're in the courtyard.."

"A few have managed to slip past the gate guards, but they're the last, I'm told. We're safe."

Anders let himself fall back onto his pillows. There was a plaintive miaow from the end of the bed and he let himself grin. "Pounce," he said, holding out a hand. The ginger tom leapt up next to him and rubbed his head against his chin. Sure enough, the clashes of weapons faded and eventually stopped altogether. Anders was weak, but not unable to move, and the rumbling in his stomach told him what he needed more than anything. He threw back his covers and got to his feet.

"The Commander told me not to let you wander the keep, ser," the servant said.

"I'll bet she did," he muttered, throwing on his robes and grabbing his staff. Habit, really. He didn't have enough magic to light a mouse hole, but he'd spent too long skipping from place to place to give up that habit just yet.

He figured that if he ever did, he'd either be dead, or close to it.

Or possibly, for the first time, safe.

He pulled his hair back and grabbed his earring from the bedside table. There was preparation for disaster - and then there was _style._

"She also said you wouldn't listen to me," the servant said in a resigned tone. Anders flashed him a grin, and left.

He checked the courtyard first. A few darkspawn corpses, not many. They were already being cleared by wardens who were obviously not needed down where the thick of the fighting must be.

Anders hailed them, and one youngish Orlesian warden he couldn't remember the name of hailed him back. "Ser! The fighting's over, ser. We're just doing cleanup now."

"Did we lose anyone?"

The man shook his head. "No ser."

He breathed a sigh of relief and headed back towards the kitchens.

He wasn't surprised to find Neria, Gabrielle and Garic there as well. The warden's chefs were used to the unpredictability and intensity of warden appetites and there was at least one on duty at all times, as well as a large table at which to host up to twenty, far enough away from the cooking areas to allow them to continue their work.

Bread and cheese and smoked meat and some rather delightful pasties that Anders had a passion for were already laid out on the table, and his three companions to the deep roads looked like they had already begun a sizable feast. He grinned and grabbed a pasty, sitting at the head of the table in between the others. Gabrielle gave him one of her rare smiles and Garic clapped him on the back with his usual stunning force. Neria simply looked at him, but there was respect in her glance and none of the overt hostility he'd been getting from her for the past few weeks.

He poured himself a glass of red from the jug on the table and Neria gave a sheepish grin - obviously she had procured it from the stores. They ate in silence for a while. Food for wardens was a serious business, and he had no doubt this wasn't the first repast they had had since they'd returned.

"That was some seriously impressive magic you performed in that cavern, ser," Garic said, finally sitting back in his chair and letting out a satisfied sigh.

"Why, thank you, my young templar. I don't suppose you ever got to witness that extent of magic when you were an initiate."

Garic chuckled. "If the mages I saw managed to get a spell like that off I wouldn't have been doing my job."

"True. Just think of all the light shows you missed out on."

"And the singed hairs. And the throbbing lyrium headaches. Ah, there are far, far worse things than being a warden."

"I'll drink to that," Anders said happily.

Garic and Gabrielle left shortly afterwards, leaving Anders to pick at a cheese plate while Neria watched and sipped at her wine. He was full, but experience told him he would be empty again very, very quickly and it wasn't really worth the effort of going back up to his rooms knowing that in an hour he'd be right back down here.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," Neria said, once they were alone save for the chef.

He cocked an eyebrow at her and balanced his chair on the two back legs, twirling his wine goblet. "Oh?"

"Not about that," she said, her lips curving into a smile. "About what happened in the cavern."

"Ah."

Her expression sobered. "When you released the firestorm - I felt something watching. Something.."

"Not at all nice," he finished for her, letting the chair drop back down onto all four legs. "Yes. I felt it too. I think it's possibly the thing we've all been dreaming about."

She nodded. "It recognised you," she said softly. "It knows your power now. You need to tell the Commander. I think it will..."

"Come after me?" he asked, giving her a half smile. She bit her lip. "Well, that's probably a good thing. Once it comes out into the open it will be easier to kill."

She shuddered. "I get the feeling it's not going to be easy to kill, no matter what."

He put down his wine and rested his chin on his hand. "We're wardens," he said, keeping his tone deliberately light. "We'll manage. It can't be as bad as an archdemon, right?" There was a charged silence. He knew she thought he was being flippant about it. She was understandably nervous about tears in the veil. He was less so, after his experiences in the blackmarsh.

He found himself thinking of Justice, wondering where exactly he had gotten to.

He'd just started to think about eating again when a short figure darkened the doorway - Sigrun. She removed her helm and sat at the table with a sigh.

Anders dipped his head and Neria sat up straighter in her chair. "Commander," she said.

"We fought them all off," she said. "No major casualties, although a few injuries."

"That's good to hear," Anders said.

"Can you explain exactly what it was you saw?" she said. "I know I haven't had much experience with magic or the veil - but...."

"You've had enough. It was like the blackmarsh."

Sigrun nodded. "The blackmarsh?" Neria asked.

"We had an... experience there," Anders said. "With a talking darkspawn. And a baroness. And a fade spirit..." he trailed off and let himself grin. "Sound a bit like the beginning of a joke, no? A fade spirit, a talking darkspawn and a baroness all enter the fade..."

"Anders," Sigrun's voice had a warning tone and he stopped, realising he had probably had too much wine.

"Sorry, Commander."

"So was it torn deliberately? Or was there an accident of some kind?"

He looked at Neria who shook her head. "It couldn't have happened by accident," she said. "Something tore the veil deliberately. But there's no way of knowing from which side."

"If whoever tore the veil did it deliberately, there's no reason why they couldn't have done it more than once, is there?" Sigrun said.

Anders could see where she was going and bit his lip in sudden fear. "No reason. It takes a lot of power, but I think we've already ascertained that whoever.. or whatever is behind this is powerful enough. You think there might be more... collection points?"

"I'm afraid there might be, yes."

"Great. More than one army of walking undead."

"At least we're aware of the possibility now," Sigrun said, trying, and failing to put on a happier face. "I'll send word to the king. We'll probably need some reinforcements if we're going to be attacked by corpses." She got to her feet. Neria shot Anders a look and he remembered what they'd been talking about before the Commander got there.

"Um.. there's something else, Commander," he said. "I'm afraid I might have.. ah..."

"Out with it, mage," she said sharply.

"He annoyed whatever was behind this," Neria said bluntly. "It recognised him in the cavern. It knows the signature of his power now."

Sigrun raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And?"

"Depending on whether its a spirit or a person, he's vulnerable. If it's a spirit, he'll be in danger whenever he sleeps. If it's a person - well they'll probably come looking for him."

The dwarf's blue eyes focused on him. "And which do you think it is, Anders?"

He shrugged. "I really can't see it being a person, can you? Not down in the middle of darkspawn city. And people don't usually hang around in the dreams of grey wardens - unless they're grey wardens themselves." He picked up a piece of cheese and started to nibble thoughtfully. "But _why _a spirit would bother to tear the veil in that spot is beyond me. There's nothing down there to possess - except corpses and darkspawn and no spirit actively _wants _to possess a corpse - they just do it if there's nothing else there. Oh, and we're probably talking _demon_ rather than spirit here. Justice would - do whatever fade spirits do when they're annoyed if I didn't make that distinction." Sigrun smiled at the mention of their old companion and Neria looked puzzled. "Remind me to tell you more about him some day," Anders said.

"I should send messengers to the Tower as well," Sigrun said. "It looks like we'll need some expertise here."

"Hey, _I'm _your expert," Anders said.

"In some things, maybe," Sigrun said, grinning now.

"The most important things," he drawled, deciding it was worth having some more wine after all.

Sigrun was laughing as she left the room.


	13. Chapter 13

The light was only just filtering through the windows of the royal apartments when the crying started. Alistair groaned and rolled over to face his wife, whose eyes were open and fixed on him with a pleading look in her eyes. He sighed and got to his feet.

"Sorry, my love," she said softly. "It's the fourth time."

He smiled at her and gently touched her cheek before he padded into the small room next to theirs where Duncan's crib was. The little boy stopped crying as soon as he saw his father and gave a goo that melted his heart. It was hard to stay grumpy, even short on sleep as they both were. "What is it, little one?" he said softly as he picked the boy up and cradled him against his chest. "Nappy? Or milk?" He patted the child's bottom and felt the unmistakable wetness that meant the former.

He accomplished the nappy change with a minimum of fuss (the things you got used to, with babies) and decided he was up for the day. Miranda's sleep had been far more disrupted than his own lately so he rang for the nursemaid. There was an unspoken rule that Miranda and Alistair would deal with Duncan through the night - that was their family time, but once it was light he felt less guilty about calling for help. He popped Duncan down on the floor and quietly tickled his tummy while he waved his little fists in the air and kicked his stubby legs adorably, making delighted, wet sounds that Alistair supposed would eventually become words. His favourite trick these days was rolling over and over to get around the room - the nursemaid said it was a precursor to crawling and it was hilarious to watch. One afternoon he had managed to roll all the way under his and Miranda's bed. It had taken them a fair while to find him.

A short time later the nursemaid, Karalena, arrived. A stout, middle aged woman with five grown children of her own, she had been an invaluable asset to the royal staff and Alistair and Miranda had on more than one occasion considered ennobling her for her efforts. Although Duncan was far from a difficult baby (he was told) the pressures of ruling the kingdom and dealing with a seven month old were too much for the couple to handle on their own and once Duncan had ceased being completely reliant on Miranda for nutrition Karalena had stepped in and given them both valuable time.

"Breakfast for him, I think, Kari," Alistair said. The woman nodded and gathered the boy in her arms, taking him with her.

Careful not to wake his wife, who had fallen asleep again probably as soon as he left the room, he had a short wash and dressed. The day was not full, but he had paperwork to catch up on and he would take advantage of the early hour when few others would be about to hassle him with requests.

Autumn was drawing to a close but the full cold of winter had not hit the capital as yet - snow probably wouldn't be arriving for at least a month. There was a definite chill in the air of his study, though, and he busied himself with the fire for a few moments before returning to his desk. Missives from the Chantry, economic reports, things that his secretary couldn't deal with were piled on one side of his desk waiting his attention. He liked reading, but he didn't like _this _sort of reading.

After an hour of wading through the paperwork he there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," he said.

A servant entered and delivered a single letter with Sigrun's crest stamped on it. He felt a small thrill of excitement as he took the letter - _this _would be something interesting. The dwarf Commander was _not _a regular correspondent - at least not to him - and this looked like official warden business. He broke the seal and ran his eyes over the contents, then got to his feet and started back towards their quarters.

Miranda was awake and nursing Duncan when he got there. "Two course breakfast today then?" he said, smiling. There really wasn't anything much more beautiful than his wife nursing their son. Miranda smiled back up at him.

"When isn't it?" she said, but there was fondness in her tone.

"You know, there's probably something lewd I could say here, but I'm going to self censor for a change and just say..." he leant over to give his son a kiss on the crown of his dark haired head, "_good on you, little one_."

She rolled her eyes, then caught sight of the letter he held. "News?" she said.

He nodded sharply. "Sigrun's requesting reinforcements at the Vigil. It seems your little apostate conscript has stirred up an army of corpses."

She held out her free hand for the letter. "What's Anders been doing this time?" she muttered as she started to read. She raised her eyebrows. "Well. That's not good news. We'll have to send a contingent of soldiers as soon as possible. The garrison at Amaranthine isn't enough."

"Sigrun's informed the tower as well," he said. "But it will take them much longer to get there."

"Shall we send Kylon?" she asked.

He pursed his lips. "Actually I thought I should go," he said.

She raised her eyebrow at him. "That makes sense. You've had experience with the fade."

"It would, of course, be better if you could go," he said, smiling. "You've had _more _than I have. With the added advantage of not being sucked into the first vision a demon presented you with."

"Ah, but now you have everything you ever wished for. No desire demon could possibly tempt you."

He sat on the bed and stroked Duncan's dark hair. "Good point," he said.

"This isn't just a way to get a full night's sleep?" she said.

He laughed. "Tears in the veil? Walking corpses? What could possibly stop me from sleeping?"

She put down the letter and transferred Duncan to the other breast. "Then it's a way of avoiding paperwork," she said.

"Eamon can handle it," he said.

"True. Or I can. I sometimes think _you _should have gone to Amaranthine - there's a big part of you that just wants to run off and be a warden again." He grinned. "You can go. But no expeditions into the deep roads for you. And take Zevran - at least I know _he'll_ follow my instructions and knock you senseless if you try to do something stupid."

"Did you just give the King of Ferelden _permission _to visit one of his cities?" he said.

She lifted her chin imperiously. "Yes, I believe I did. And if you don't want it rescinded you'll do exactly what I tell you."

"Yes ser," he said. He looked at his wife for a moment, then at his son and felt his heart swell. "I won't stay," he said. "I'll be gone for two weeks at the most. Even if the corpses start attacking."

"Don't make promises you might not be able to keep," she said. "Remember the first time _I _had to go to the Vigil."

He sighed. "Too well."

"We'll come and fetch you if you're away for too long. It's only a two day journey after all."

"I'll count on it."

* * *

_Repair the tear in the veil, _ he thought to himself as he sat in on the same ledge where he'd released his firestorm three days previously. _Why, certainly Commander. If you would be so kind as to stop someone else from doing it first!_

"How?" Neria asked from beside him. "Tears in the veil don't just... repair themselves!"

"This is getting a little ridiculous," Anders agreed. The four of them had volunteered for this mission - well, Gabrielle and Garic had volunteered - Neria and Anders had been the only two mages with even an _inkling _of how to patch up the veil so they'd had to come. There were no darkspawn on the way - it seemed the entire population of this section of the deep roads had followed them on their last little expedition. _One way to reduce the threat to Amaranthine, _he'd thought to himself as they traveled down.

The cavern smelt smoky and its walls were blackened. He spent a while admiring his handiwork - there was a fine dusting of ash over the floor which was all that remained of the corpses that had been piled there - a blackened heap of armour in one corner that was probably the remains of one of the genlocks they'd seen.

"You really trashed this place," Garic said, chuckling.

Anders matched his grin. "Yes, and now we've got to work out why instead of ripping the veil wider open, which is what a spell of that magnitude _should_ have done..."

"It fixed it," Neria finished for him. "But I don't think that's what did it."

"Aww," Anders said.

She grinned at him. "No. And you know it just as well as I do. We said someone tore the veil deliberately - it looks like they.. sewed it up again afterwards."

"This is getting worse and worse," Anders said.

"How so?" Gabrielle asked. She had a look on her face that said things couldn't really get worse.

"Demons don't have this sort of... forethought," he continued. "They're not concerned about being found out. They don't destroy evidence of their... fun. They revel in it."

"So we're talking about a person then?" Garic said.

"But there's the whole dream thing," Anders pointed out. "I don't know about you but I've never encountered any _person _who could influence the dreams of an entire country's grey wardens."

He suddenly wished he'd brought Pounce with him. Something about the presence of the animal helped him think, and he never gave complicated opinions. But the cat was too big to fit in his robes any more, and didn't like the deep roads much - too much darkspawn smell.

"The other groups are scouting for more tears in the veil," Anders said. "And there's nothing more we can do here. I suppose we go back to the keep."

"No hurry this time," Garic said, grinning at Neria. "We can appreciate the true beauty of the deep roads."

"Well _I_ grew up in a Tower," Neria said. "Rocks are quite interesting, really."

"I'll second that," Anders said. "But Amaranthine is better. I think we all deserve a bit of leave once we get back to the keep."

"Are we finally going to hit the town and have a party?" Neria said, eyebrows raised. "I was wondering if you were ever going to deliver on this promise of having more freedom as a warden than as a circle mage."

"What can I say? Walking corpses interfere with _everything._"


	14. Chapter 14

While Gabrielle was preparing dinner in what passed for evening down in the deep roads, she found herself sitting next to Anders again. There was still a charged atmosphere between them - one that she didn't quite know how to handle. She was attracted to him - but she wasn't sure if it was worth the effort. There was none of the sweet uncertainty about the man that Tobias had. He seemed to take their interactions calmly - as though he'd been through the dance many times before and knew the steps better than his partner.

She _wasn't _experienced in relationships outside the Tower. In the Tower assignations were rushed - carried out in storerooms and closets. There was little opportunity for privacy. Tobias and she had really only managed the actual... act... a few times and although it had been pleasurable - eventually - she had hardly had any time to learn.. technique.

Something told her that a good deal of Anders' time outside the Tower had been spent making up for that lack of opportunity. The thought made her shiver - especially coupled with the image she had in her head of him standing on the ledge releasing unchecked power. Being near him was distracting.

And he seemed to have taken her earlier outburst as a warning not to go near her again. Apart from the odd moment when she caught him looking at her he'd been nothing but friendly on this trip and part of her was kicking herself. If she wanted anything to happen now, it was painfully obvious she was going to have to instigate it herself.

All these things and more were going through her head when she felt him settle on the rocks next to her. She didn't know what to say or do around him any more and it was making her angry.

"So," she said finally. "What did you _do _when you escaped the tower?"

"The first time? Or every time?" he replied.

"How many times did you manage it?"

"Actually out of the tower and off the island - seven. If you count attempts - well, more than that. I started early. The first time I only made it to the Spoiled Princess, but I was only eighteen so..."

She'd gone through her harrowing at eighteen. So had Tobias... Her mind shied away from that.

"Why did you want to escape so badly?" she asked.

He laughed at her. "Why _didn't _you?" he saw her look then spread his hands. "Oh, I know you wanted to get out by the time we came and got you - but I remember you from the tower. You used to love it there. It was like you... belonged. What changed that?"

She pressed her lips together. "They stopped being what I wanted."

"Well, in my case they were _never _what I wanted."

"But you learned so much... your powers - they're exceptional..."

He grinned widely. "Why, thank you, milady," he said. "Yes I enjoyed _magic. _Who wouldn't love having all this power? It's... exhilarating. And it helps that I'm so... exceptional at it. But what's the point of power if you don't get to _use _it?"

"True."

There was a pause.

"How old were you when you were found?" he asked finally.

"Seven," she said. "They took me from the Denerim alienage. Really, it was a step up for me. Not that I remember much about it."

"See - if they find you early they have enough time to brainwash you," he said, and his voice sounded bitter for the first time.

"Why, how old were you?"

He flashed her a grin. "Fifteen," he said.

She whistled between her teeth. That was _very _old for a mage to be discovered. "What, didn't your powers manifest until then?"

"Oh, they manifested. But we traveled a lot, my family and I. Without a phylactery.." he spat the word out like it was poison... "the Templars had a very hard time tracking me down. Finally caught up with me in Denerim."

She felt a sharp pang of sympathy for him. "Did you try to find your family? When you escaped?"

He gave a short bark of a laugh. "No. I had other things on my mind when I escaped." A door had slammed shut in his face at that question and she guessed there was another story there - one that he wasn't willing to share. "But now..." he spread his hands and smiled, "I have all this at my fingertips. Life is good. And I do believe Gabrielle has finished cooking. Shall I serve you, milady?"

She smiled and tried to incline her head regally, but it ended in a surprisingly girlish giggle. Looking at him from under her lashes she saw his cheeks redden slightly, but he turned to the fire casually and busied himself with bowls and spoons. When he handed her a serving their fingers touched briefly and she definitely felt a jolt of.. something. She looked up at him to find him smiling a soft smile she hadn't seen before, his eyes darker than normal. He sat on the ground near her feet facing the fire and started to eat.

It took her a little while to catch her breath and do the same.

* * *

They found organised chaos back at the keep. The soldiers from Denerim had arrived and Sigrun was in the courtyard busily assigning them to barracks. When she saw the four of them she smiled and waved them over.

"Success?" she asked, running her eyes over the clipboard she held.

"Well.. in a manner of speaking," Anders said. "The tear is sealed. But we didn't do it." Sigrun looked up at him, eyes wide and mouth pressed together. Anders shrugged. "Whoever tore it in the first place has sealed it up again, we think," he said. "They're... covering their tracks. It bodes ill for our theory that there are other tears."

"Yes, if they're that efficient at closing them up there's no reason to think they won't go opening others." She let her arms fall to her sides and sighed heavily. "Well, at least the troops are here. Hopefully the mages won't be far behind."

"Who's in command of the troops?" Garic asked.

Sigrun shot a quick, furtive look at Anders. "Um.. the King actually," she said. "He said he was one of the only wardens who had experience with the fade. Which is true, according to Miranda. They were trapped in the fade at the circle."

Neria was watching Anders, but he didn't even flinch. "It would have been better if she'd come," Anders said. "We had that little trip in the blackmarsh, if you remember."

"Yes, well, I explained to the King that there were four other wardens here who had fade experience, and he acknowledged that. He wants to be able to break us up into groups - have at least one warden per group who knows the ins and outs. Obviously if we had more mages that wouldn't be so much of a problem..."

"You don't actually expect there to be tears in the veil _here _do you?" Garic said, looking a little pale.

"If _I _could tear the veil and it gave me an advantage in battle, I'd do it," Anders pointed out. "It's best to be prepared."

Sigrun gave a deep sigh. "I just wish we knew _what _was doing this. And a reason _why _would help as well."

"Um... I have an idea about that Commander," Anders said. "But I don't think you'll like it much."

She cocked an eyebrow. "An idea from you?" she said. "You can bet I won't. So how about we wait until you're cleaned up and had something to eat. Meet me in my study when you're done."

She stalked off towards the soldier barracks. Anders started towards the keep but Neria caught his arm. "What's this plan you're talking about?" she asked.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah... come with me to the meeting," he said. "I don't really feel like having it shot down in flames more than once."

"That good?"

"Actually it will probably need another mage - so your presence would be appreciated."

"I'll see you there then," she said.


	15. Chapter 15

Twenty minutes later she found him leaning against the wall outside Sigrun's study. Ser-Pounce-a-Lot sat on his shoulder, his ginger tail flicking around Anders neck like a caress. She reached up a hand to scratch the cat between the ears and he leaned into her touch, purring.

"Moral support," Anders said, smiling a little. "People melt when Pounce gives them his cute look. I'm hoping he'll push the balance in my favour for this plan."

"What _is..." _she was interrupted by the door being flung open. Sigrun stood in the doorway.

"You can knock, you know," she said, one hand on her hip. "It's not as though I don't _know _you're standing out here trying to get the courage up to come in and tell me your harebrained plan."

Anders made a guilty face as the dwarf commander stepped aside and waved them inside. King Alistair was there as well, along with the elf she had seen on their first visit. Short, handsome and lithe, he looked up as they entered, saw her, and grinned.

To call the grin lascivious would have been a major understatement. She felt herself blush even before she had stopped walking. To hide it she bowed deeply to the king, who waved his hand impatiently.

"Please don't do that," he said. "It's bad enough when people who aren't wardens do it. It only makes me jumpy."

She smiled and straightened. "Sorry, your majesty," she said. He gave a grimace, then took in Anders presence with a guarded smile. Anders took the opportunity to give an even deeper bow. Sigrun and Alistair both groaned.

"Diplomacy has never been your strong point, Anders," Sigrun said.

"And you're the expert there, miss 'I'm dead don't ask me how to behave in public'..." he said.

"If we could get to the point here," Alistair interrupted. "The Commander was informing me that you have a plan to find out what exactly is behind all this."

Anders took a seat near the window - ignoring propriety - but considering Alistair's reaction to a simple bow she figured he wouldn't care if they all sat. Pounce jumped down to the mage's lamp and stretched, looking up at Alistair and she saw the king's face soften a little, before he leaned against Sigrun's desk.

She felt a touch on her arm and turned to see the elf she had noticed on the way in. He was _very _close. "Sit with me, my dear," he said, his deep voice, thick with an exotic accent, sliding over the words as though they were delicious treats. He was gently tugging her towards a bench near the doorway. "I have a feeling this will be a long and involved conversation, if I know any of the participants half as well as I believe."

She allowed herself to be pulled to the bench and seated, although she was a little bewildered by the elf's manner. He was like no elf she'd ever met before. Perhaps it was the accent.

Anders was stroking Pounce and eyeing her with a calculating look on his face and she felt herself suddenly blush.

"Anders?" Sigrun said, and her tone was getting more impatient, if that was possible. "What's your plan?"

"I thought I'd enter the fade and confront the thing," he said simply. There was a silence. Sigrun folded her arms across her chest and Alistair raised an eyebrow.

"That's it?" Sigrun said. "Just go into the fade, ask it it's business and leave? You don't even know where to look."

"Well, it's _obvious _where to look," Anders drawled. "The forest in our dreams - everyone I've talked to agrees that the... whatever it is is behind the forest. We can see it - we can feel it. If we go _through_ the forest my guess is we'll get to whoever is behind this."

She thought of the forest in her dream and shuddered. The others in the room were obviously doing the same thing - save for the elf next to her. He wasn't a warden, she realised.

"You want to go _in _there?" Alistair said.

"Not by myself," Anders replied. "That would probably be stupid. But yes. I think it's a good idea."

"Better you than me," Alistair muttered.

"Ah, when you said 'not by yourself'...'" Neria said hesitantly.

Anders gave her a soft smile. "Well, I wasn't going to ask you personally, but I think out of all our mages..."

"She'd be the only one not likely to wet her drawers once she was there," Sigrun said matter of factly.

"True," Anders said.

"The circle mages will be here soon," Alistair said. "Don't you think it would be better to wait for them? You'll have more backup."

Anders spread his hands. "Why wait? We can send two people into the fade with relative ease and to be honest I wouldn't trust a circle mage as far as I could throw him to know how to handle something like this." He cocked his head on one side. "Maybe Rowan, at a pinch. But he's busy these days, or so I hear."

Alistair pursed his lips. "Yes, well much as I'd like to deprive my wife and son of their personal physician for your convenience I'm afraid that's not going to happen any time soon," the king's tone was a _little _tense. "But there are _other _competent mages. _At the circle."_

"Name three," Anders said.

"Gentlemen," Sigrun said. "This is hardly productive. And I would have thought _one _night in the Amaranthine cells was enough for both of you."

Both the King and Anders looked a little sheepish at that and the elf beside her chuckled. "I'm forever regretful that I missed _that _particular encounter," he whispered into her ear. "I'm told it was _most _entertaining."

"What encounter?" she hissed back at him.

"You mean he hasn't _told _you?" he said. "How delicious. Ask him some time. I promise you won't regret it."

"Who _are _you?"

But the conversation had started up again and the elf had slid out of whispering range.

"So you'll go through the forest and confront this spirit - or whatever it is - despite the fact that it's rather justifiably peeved with you and probably trying to find you as we speak?" Sigrun said.

"Sounds chipper," Alistair muttered.

"That's why I should go," Anders said. "If anyone else does, it might just run away. If I'm there, it'll want to kill me."

"Sooo difficult to believe," Alistair said.

Neria could see that Sigrun was itching to tell the king of Ferelden to shut up. "He's harder to control without his wife here," the elf beside her whispered. "Tends to slide back into his old habits. Smart mouth. No tact."

Neria grinned. She was beginning to like the king, although it was possibly because watching Anders discomforted in any small way was.. a bit sweet really.

"I don't like it," Sigrun was saying. "We need you, Anders. I can't have you getting lost in the fade or possessed by a demon or ancestors forbid, killed, right before we're looking at facing an army of the walking dead..."

"Commander, you're forgetting that I'm extremely talented. And I also like being alive. I promise you that if things get too difficult I'll come back straight away."

"Define too difficult," she said. "_You_ think you're invincible."

"But I don't, Commander," Neria said. "I have a healthy sense of self preservation. And I'm just as talented as he is. I'll drag him back kicking and screaming if I have to."

"Oh, I'd go with _you _willingly," Anders said then, and there was enough heat in his voice to make her blush.

"Anders will you grow up?" Sigrun said. "Neria will accompany you on this fool mission. And I'm giving her discretion. If _she _thinks it's too dangerous, you pull out. Immediately. No questions asked. If I find you've disobeyed her order I'll lock you in a cell until you think the circle was a pleasant holiday in the sunshine."

Anders mock-shuddered. "Yes _ser," _he said.

* * *

They were to enter the fade the next day. Neria spent the evening fiddling with her gear. If it was going to be anything like the harrowing, she would have nothing but her wits and her power once they were in the fade, so polishing her staff and arranging her potions and poultices was a pointless exercise. Still, she needed something to do with her hands and she couldn't sit still enough to read.

There was a knock at her door just as she was thinking about going to sleep. She opened it to find Anders standing there, looking a little bit sheepish. Pounce was on his shoulder again. _Why would he need moral support now? _she wondered.

"Should I invite you inside, or is that a bad idea?" she asked him

"It's never a bad idea to invite a handsome man into your room," he said.

"Handsome, is it?"

"What about... distinguished?"

She snorted.

"Ok, how about worried?"

"Worried?" she was shocked enough to stand aside and wave him in. He sat on the spare bunk and Pounce jumped down beside him. His long fingers tangled in the cat's short fur as though he was using the animal to keep him anchored. She sat on her own bunk, amidst her gear.

"I probably sounded more confident than I actually am, up there in the study," he said. "And I just wanted to make sure you're ok with this - with coming with me into the fade."

"Of course I am," she said.

"It's just that.. well with the - whatever it is - likely to want to kill me as soon as look at me... I don't want you to..."

She leaned forward and put her hand on his knee. His head snapped down to it as though it was some sort of crawling creature. "Anders," she said. "It's all right. I happen to think it's a good idea."

He looked back up at her. "I don't want to put you in danger. Andraste's ass - I don't want to put _anyone _in danger..."

"Part of the package, isn't it?" She said lightly, retrieving her hand. "Being a Grey Warden and all."

He shrugged. "I never used to think so," he said. "When it was just darkspawn."

"I'm not afraid of the fade," she said. "Did you know I passed my harrowing faster than any mage before me? The First Enchanter thought I'd cheated somehow - found out what it entailed before I was sent."

He chuckled. "You'll never guess who set the record in the first place," he said.

She grinned. "You?"

"What can I say? I'm awesome. And at the time I thought if I passed the harrowing they'd let me out."

"Well, if you'd failed it.. they kind of would have." _One way out, the _only _permanent one, _she thought sadly of another Harrowing._ Maybe that's what he wanted. _

"I just wanted to make sure you didn't mind coming with me," he said, not noticing her melancholy. "A lot of mages aren't too keen on the fade."

"It's not my favourite place. But I know my way around it," she said. "We'll be fine." He smiled and got to his feet, looking a little less worried. Pounce jumped to his shoulder. "That cat is very loyal to you," she said.

"I feed him well," Anders said.

"Maybe he thinks you're just as good as you do," she said, smiling.

"If I was that good," he said, raising an eyebrow, "you would have asked me to stay by now."

She opened her mouth to reply, but found no words would come. A flush of heat starting somewhere in her middle completely paralyzed her.

Anders' expression turned sheepish again and he bit his lip. "I'm sorry," he said, but his tone was playful. "It's just.. sometimes it's difficult to stop my mouth from doing things it wants to."

"Maker's breath," she said, letting out a breathy laugh. "Can you make _everything _into an innuendo?"

He grinned. "I haven't tried _everything _yet," he said, his voice lingering on the words like a caress. She shook her head to clear a sudden attack of fuzziness and got to her feet, intending to open the door again - help him on his way out.. possibly push him, but he moved more quickly and he was suddenly right in front of her, so close that she could feel his breath. She felt a finger delicately tipping her chin up so she was looking into his face, his hazel eyes twinkling and a smile playing on his lips. She wasn't sure exactly how but she suddenly found those lips pressed to hers, the scrape of his stubble across her cheek and she _leaned _into it, tasting cinnamon and the slight sourness of mulled wine on his breath.

And _oh _he was good at this - the gentle flick of his tongue against her lips made her head spin and she wanted, _wanted _to put her arms around him and pull him closer - as close as possible, but he lifted his head way, way before it was necessary and stepped back out of her reach.

She was at least pleased to see that his breath was coming harder than normal.

"And I suppose you couldn't stop your mouth from doing that?" she said, when she had control over her vocal chords again.

He gave her a soft smile. "No," he said. "Sometimes I have no control over it _at all."_

_And sometimes you can control it very well indeed, _she thought to herself. She waited, certain that she wanted him, but not certain that she wanted him _now, _even with certain parts of her screaming that she would be crazy to say no. But they had the fade tomorrow - and there was still a small part of her that thought he might not be ready - that _she _might not be ready.

Finally, when the silence had gone on for too long, she turned back to her bunk to start gathering her things. "I'll see you tomorrow morning," she said.

She felt him move behind her - felt his breath and a brief touch of his lips on her neck. "Sleep well," he said. When she turned around he was gone.


	16. Chapter 16

He shouldn't have, he knew it. It was stupid and impulsive but she'd looked so... kissable, with those big dark eyes and that cheeky mouth..

And she hadn't been shy about kissing him back - brief as it had been, he'd felt her body leaning towards his and it had taken a _lot _of willpower not to wrap his arms around her and pull her closer and _make _her understand exactly how much the queen _didn't _mean to him any more.

Except that having that thought - that one, just then, about Miranda, meant that it wasn't that simple. Four years, it had been, since he first saw her, and there had been other women - he was slightly embarrassed to admit to himself how many - but none of them had been anything more than fun and he'd been careful to choose women who only _wanted _fun...

The problem was, he hadn't really ever found a woman he wanted for anything _but _fun. Living moment to moment between escapes had never given him the opportunity to get to know anyone very well and in the Tower... well he was so obsessed with getting _out _that his romantic entanglements had been - sometimes exceptionally - brief.

When it got down to it, Miranda was the first woman he'd really had _conversations _with. Coupled with the fact that she'd set him free - given him Pounce - given him back what he'd wanted so badly for so long... well it was _natural _that he'd fall in love with her. It didn't help that she was exceptionally beautiful. It didn't help that she laughed at his jokes. It didn't help that he'd seen her at her most vulnerable, physically _and _emotionally, more than once, that she trusted him enough to be at her side during the battle against the Mother...

When she'd decided to give up her duties as Warden Commander he'd been relieved and anguished all at once. Then when they'd gone to Tevinter and he'd had a chance to see her and Alistair together...

He remembered that moment, Alistair bleeding and poisoned on the ground from a stab wound that was going to kill him and her pleading look as she asked him to do something - anything - to stop that. He'd thrown himself into it, for the first time wanting more than anything for the damn bastard to live just so he would never have to see her in pain again.

That moment, then, he'd thought he loved her more than anything. But looking back on it now, he realised _that _moment was the one when he said goodbye.

But it had taken Neria to make him realise that he hadn't let go of the _idea _of Miranda. Maybe it was easier, he thought, to have something to strive for that you could never hope to have. Maybe he _needed _that to feel complete. Before he became a warden he'd striven for freedom, before that...

Pounce was curling his tail around Anders' neck and purring inordinately loudly. He reached up and tickled the cat under the chin as they walked, suddenly aware that he'd passed his quarters a long time ago. He was close to the dining hall and kitchens - an automatic route he followed whenever he was distracted - the old warden appetite problem.

He wasn't hungry, though. Well... not for _food _at any rate.

He really shouldn't have. Not with what they were planning to do tomorrow.

But he couldn't help smiling as he remembered the feel of her lips against his.

* * *

They faced each other over the brazier of raw lyrium. Anders was smiling his usual smile, but she could see tension in his jaw.

The other warden mages - Sevarin, and Branwen were the ones to conduct the ritual. As they chanted, Anders winked at her, and she caught her breath in a laugh.

The familiar wooziness took hold eventually and she saw the room waver and be replaced by...

They were on a clifftop overlooking the ocean. She'd never seen the ocean before and she caught her breath at its unchecked magnificence. The waves crashing into the rocks below - the sharp smell of brine and salt - the overwhelming feeling of being unbound... She turned to Anders to find him looking out over the water, head tilted upwards and face relaxed.

"Is this yours?" she said.

He looked down at her and laughed. "Yes, actually," he said. "Slight misplacement. I was dreaming of this last time I saw the forest."

"It's beautiful," she breathed. Despite the familiar fade distortion around them she had to resist an urge to sit and drink in the air for a while - soak up the feeling of freedom. Anders stepped closer to her, his eyes shining and gently turned her around.

"I'll bring you back here," he said. "When we're finished. It's just up the coast of Amaranthine. It represents the furthest I got from the Tower before being captured again."

"I can see why you might linger here."

Behind them there was a more familiar fade scape - brown earth and strangeness. A fade portal formed before them, no doubt summoned by Anders. "This will lead to the forest," he said.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"We're in my portion of the fade now," he said. "I know my way around." He grasped her small hand in his larger one and they both held out their free hands to activate the portal. They were engulfed in red light for a moment before the scape in front of them changed.

The forest. She felt the familiar fear grip her. But she was more aware than she had been in her dreams. She could feel the comforting aura of Anders next to her - feel his magic. She was not alone and powerless. She was fully conscious, in control and in the presence of one of the most powerful mages she'd ever come across.

Who was clearing his throat nervously.

"I'm scared," he said. "Hold me?"

She let out a burst of laughter and clutched his hand tighter in hers. "Good enough?" she said, grinning up at him.

He smiled back down at her. "For now," he said, quirking an eyebrow in a way that made her - non-corporeal or not - shiver with anticipation.

The trees looked a little like poplars, but there was less foliage - as though they were the skeletons of trees rather than trees themselves. Yet somehow, when they stepped in unison under the canopy what little light had been present was blocked. Anders cast a spell wisp that gave them enough light to see a few feet around them, but the gloom was oppressive and stifling. The undergrowth was sparse and the ground seemed to be made entirely of root systems - knotted and gnarled to such an extent that footing was treacherous. The trunks of the trees which had seemed relatively slender from the outside, were actually thick and crowded together, making it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of them - even had there been enough light to do so.

"So," Neria said once they were inside. She was still clasping his hand. Neither of them felt inclined to lose that contact. "Which way?"

"Can you feel it?" he asked. She knew what he meant. That nameless dread. It was coming from a very particular direction. "It's a trap, or it's our brooding menace," he continued. "Either way it's pretty clear which way we need to go."

She nodded and he gave her hand a squeeze as they started walking.

Every mage knew that the fade was dangerous. It was mutable - things shifted and changed. Demons found weaknesses in visitors to the fade and played upon them. The forest felt far from empty - it would be too tempting a place to leave traps for the unwary.

"I get the feeling we're not entirely alone in here," Anders said as they picked their way carefully forward."

"Demons," she said.

"Probably. Maybe a few harmless spirits, although it has the feel of the nasty about it, rather than the cuddly."

"I agree."

"There's something else though," he continued, pushing aside a low branch as he walked. "Something... familiar."

"We've been dreaming about this place for months," she pointed out.

"Yes. That's not it though." He chewed his lip, looking puzzled. "Ah well," he said eventually, "I guess we'll find out soon."

"We should be on our guard."

"More on our guard?"

She gave an exasperated sigh. "Yes, more on our guard. Less distracted by pointless conversation, for example."

"Oh, that. Yes. We probably should."

It was good advice. As they walked they caught glimpses of what might have been clearings if this were a normal forest - openings in the trees. Once they heard the sound of unearthly singing - so sweet and melodious that for a moment they both found themselves turning towards it. After a few steps, however, Anders shook his head and clutched her arm.

Strangely enough, what kept them anchored more than anything was the increasing feeling of menace from what they assumed was their destination. No matter how tempting the song, or beautiful the illusion, the pull of that horror was enough to remind them of precisely where they needed to go.

After what felt like hours they noticed the trees beginning to thin. It wasn't the end of the forest, but a massive clearing. Pale light filtered down from above onto bare earth. Neria gasped as she realised the fade landscape here was distorted like the deep roads had been. Fleshy nodules of red and purple bulged from the ground like grotesque plants.

The clearing was contaminated with the taint.

But the strongest feeling of the taint came from the figure in the middle of the clearing.

A single darkspawn.


	17. Chapter 17

He reached for his staff instinctively, before remembering that it wasn't there. Darkspawn? In the fade? He'd never heard of such a thing. Darkspawn didn't dream. He could feel the taint, but he hadn't _started _to feel it until they had stepped into the clearing.

"What do you see?" he hissed at Neria, suddenly aware that this was possibly an illusion.

"Darkspawn," she said. "But it's not like any darkspawn I've seen before."

"I have," he said grimly. The Withered. The messengers of the Architect. They had looked like this darkspawn. He remembered the Blackmarsh - how the withered had reacted to being trapped in the fade. This one seemed completely different. Almost - relaxed.

What if they had begun to dream? According to the chantry darkspawn had been human once. Human mages, corrupted by the taint. He remembered the Architect, trying to convince Miranda that his plan to make darkspawn self aware was a good one, that they could reach some sort of common ground between the humanoid races of Thedas and the ravening hordes of darkspawn. _At the cost of bloodletting every warden on Thedas, _he reminded himself. No, they had been right to kill him. But there were these... leftovers of the mad darkspawn's experiments. How had they survived? What did they _do _now that the one who had united them had gone?

"It is soooo amusing to listen to your brain try to catch up to your eyes, human," the darkspawn said as it turned to face them.

It was just like the withered in appearance. But it's voice was smooth and cultured. It tripped over the words with a skill in language the withered had never managed.

"What are you?" Neria breathed.

"Is it not obvious?" the thing said. "I am a darkspawn. A creature of the blight and the taint," but as it spoke, its form wavered and suddenly they were faced by a young elven man - blond and sharp featured. He was smiling a sunny smile as he held out a hand towards them. He felt Neria gasp beside him and lean forward slightly, even as she crushed his hand in hers hard enough to grind the bones against each other.

The elf laughed and morphed again, becoming a brown haired woman Anders recognised all too well. He had forgotten what she looked like, he realised. But much as the image hurt, he stood his ground, pulling Neria close to him and lifting his head.

"You're quite right," the woman said - and the voice was nothing like it should be, making the image both harder and easier to bear. "Tricks such as these are useless in the end. The province of desire demons or sloth demons with no imagination and less ambition. Possess a mage.. enter the real world.. Bah!" the woman threw up her hands and became, once again, the darkspawn.

"A demon then?" Neria said. "Pride, by the sounds of it."

"No doubt your circle mages would classify me as such. So fond of their little lists. They think if they can define something they can destroy it. But I have become so much more over the centuries - thanks to your Architect. Whoever knew that there was such a wealth of bodies to be possessed as there are in these deep roads of yours?"

"You possessed a darkspawn?" Anders said. "Good luck with _that."_

The darkspawn's teeth bared in what was probably meant to be a smile. "They have no defense against us, these newly aware beings. They want such _simple _things - it is so easy to deliver. And they are powerful. And they are biddable._"_

"How many of you are there?" Anders asked.

"Of me? There is only one," it said. "There need only be one. I was the first to realise the new darkspawn could be possessed like a human. I can act in the world now."

"Why the army of corpses?" he continued. "Why the tears in the veil?"

"Why breathe air? I need not remain underground, confined in the dark in the body of something so hideous it could not walk the street without being killed. Not when the surface teems with magical, powerful beings such as yourselves." It licked what passed for its lips and ran its eyes greedily over both of them, lingering in ways that reminded Anders of a lover. He felt dirty suddenly, as though the darkspawn was using its eyes to coat him with filth.

"Yet you are both so courteous as to come here and _offer _yourselves to me, making my armies unnecessary, my tears in the veil superfluous..."

"So there is more than one then?" Neria said sharply. "More than one tear?"

"My dear girl, there are _many. _One firestormed cavern," it said, curling its lip at Anders, "is not enough to stop me." It considered them both for a moment. "Which should I choose?" it continued. The delectable elf or the... _virile _man? Both have their advantages."

"We're wardens," Neria said. "Whichever you choose, your time with us will be finite."

"Not to mention the fact that you're not getting _either _of us," Anders added.

The darkspawn threw back its head and laughed. "You flesh creatures - you are so short sighted," it said. "One body would never be enough. One lifetime is never enough, be it thirty years or three hundred. And you forget, I have no problem with blood magic, unlike you _Anders _and you _Neria," _it said their names as though it were tasting them. Its eyes returned to Anders and stayed there. He had the uncomfortable feeling that it had chosen its target. "There will be nothing stopping me from utilizing it once I am in your body. That virility can be maintained far longer than you might think," its eyes flicked to Neria, "especially if it is fed with such creatures as _these."_

The lightning bolt shot from his hand without him even thinking and hit the darkspawn squarely in the chest. It was flung backwards, but eerily laughter bubbled from it as it fell.

"Time for us to go, I think," he said, as the ground around them started to shake. Neria was already beginning to summon the fade portal as he spoke.

But of course, it wasn't that simple. As Neria chanted Anders cast a spell shield around them both, giving them enough space to open a portal. The darkspawn/demon got to its feet and threw up its arms - beginning to batter at their shield with power. The rumbling ground spewed four rage demons - their fiery bodies casting red light on the surrounding trees and making Neria's tense face look bathed in blood.

He couldn't help but admire her focus as the portal formed. He blasted the nearest rage demon with a freezing grasp, slowing its approach enough for them both to turn to the portal and step through back into the light and warmth of the Vigil's audience hall and their own bodies.

They were on their knees, facing each other. It felt strange not to be holding her hand, but only for a second, because she leaned forward as soon as her eyes met his and he enfolded her in his arms, sinking to a seated position and cradling her in his lap, both giving and taking comfort from the simple warmth of their contact.

After a long moment he looked up to see Sigrun watching. "I'm afraid," he said softly, "we may have a slight problem."

* * *

After an hour in which Neria and Anders had time to eat something and change their clothes, they retired to Sigrun's study, where Alistair was waiting for them. He'd set up an extra desk for himself in the corner of the room. Anders was shocked to discover it was past noon - they'd been in the fade for the better part of a day. If it had been a harrowing, they both would have been killed.

"It's possessed a darkspawn?" Alistair said. "Has that ever happened before?"

"Not according to the Warden records," Sigrun said.

"It's possible the circle might have heard of something like this happening," Anders said.

"Without informing the wardens? Surely all things to do with darkspawn.."

"There may not have been any wardens to inform," Alistair pointed out. "Remember that we were exiled from Ferelden for a good part of history, thanks to one of my esteemed ancestors."

"At least your father let them back in," Sigrun pointed out. "The circle mages should be here in a week. We can ask them when they arrive. I'll send another letter to Irving in case they don't know, though."

"It wants to possess a mage," Neria said. "Particularly it wants Anders - from what I could see. Not surprising, considering."

"What a time to be irresistible," he muttered.

"What's the army of corpses for then?" Alistair asked.

"Unless it comes across a mage in the fade it can't possess one from there," Neria said. "And no mage is going to work their way through that forest on a whim."

"Why doesn't it just come out of the forest, then?" Sigrun asked simply.

"Maybe it can't," Anders said. "Maybe the forest isn't trying to stop people from getting _in. _Maybe it's there to keep the demon from getting _out."_

"So who made the forest?" Alistair asked. "I get the impression altering the landscape of the fade isn't something that everybody can do."

"No," Anders said thoughtfully. "But a powerful mage could do it. Or something native to the fade."

"Native to the fade?" Sigrun said, cocking an eyebrow. "You don't think...?"

"There was definitely something familiar about the place, once we were inside," Anders said. "I was trying to place it while we were traveling through. But it had something of his air of insufferable righteousness about it."

"Who are you talking about?" Neria said.

"An old friend," Sigrun said, smiling a little. "We called him Justice."


	18. Chapter 18

They were banished to Amaranthine for a night. Well, banished was probably the wrong word. Anders had pulled Sigrun aside and told her they needed a break. There were groups down in the deep roads looking for tears in the veil, looking for the physical body of the darkspawn they'd encountered, looking for signs of danger. The circle mages were on their way. The Vigil was fortified to a point way past what it had been during the darkspawn attack of four years ago and he and Neria were _not needed._ What they needed, he said, was a taste of freedom.

"All right," Sigrun had said eventually, although he suspected it was because she really wanted to be doing anything other than talking to him. "Go. Take her with you. But for the sake of the Ancestors, don't draw attention to yourself. Wear proper clothes, leave that stupid animal behind and _don't embarrass me."_

He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, pulling back quickly before her hand could connect with his face. "And _don't do that! _Sodding hell, Anders, I'm your Commanding officer!"

"But sooo adorable," he said. She growled as he left her study and ran to find Neria.

Now they were in the Crown and Lion, having just finished an excellent lamb pie. "So," Anders asked her, sitting back in his chair with a goblet of Antivan red in his hand. "Who was he?"

"He?" she asked.

"The elf in the fade. He looked familiar."

Her face clouded. "Yes. You would have seen him. He was in the Tower with us."

"Oh?"

"Tobias," she said shortly. "He was... special to me."

"Not your friend... the blood mage?"

"No, that was Jowan. Jowan was human. Tobias... died before Jowan's escape."

"Died?"

"He didn't pass his Harrowing."

Anders' heart twisted for her. He'd lost friends at their Harrowings, not that he'd known what exactly happened to them until after his own, but never anyone he was close to in the way she was obviously close to that elf.

"I kept thinking - after he died - if I'd gone first, would I have warned him what was to come? Would he have survived?"

"It defeats the purpose of the harrowing, to warn someone what's coming," he said.

Her eyes flashed with anger. "I thought you hated the Tower?"

"I do. Oh, I _do. _But I'm not fond of malificarum either. And you've seen what happens..."

"Uldred _passed _his Harrowing."

Anders stared into his goblet for a moment. "I.. wasn't there during the rebellion. But from what I could gather, Uldred _chose _to let that demon use him. A Harrowing doesn't make you into a good person. It just stops good people from being possessed."

"By killing them," she said flatly.

He bit his lip. "You're right," he said. "There should be a better way. Far be it for me to defend those stuck up bastards."

There was an uncomfortable pause. Finally she looked up at him. "Who was _she?"_ she asked.

Ah. He should have known that question would come up and shut his mouth before asking his own. "My mother," he said shortly. She raised an eyebrow.

"You regret something about her?" she said softly.

He pinched his nose between two fingers and shut his eyes, trying to push the memories away. "Too many things," he said. "She's dead now, though. It's in the past." There was another pause. He shook himself. "Well, haven't I managed to make a pleasant evening all morbid? Shall we move on to more cheerful conversation?"

She smiled. "Tell me about this Justice person..."

"Ah..."

* * *

He helped her up the stairs. It was the gentlemanly thing to do. She was giggling a bit more than usual, and he found he was doing the same - very unmanly, but what she had said... what was it she'd said? It was very funny, whatever it was. She fell into the banister as they walked and leaned over the edge for a moment, trying to catch her breath. He helped her back up and they both fell back onto the other banister, his arms around her waist.

"Only a few more steps," he said. She giggled again. He must have been being very witty tonight.

At the top of the stairs he forgot which room he was in. She was heading in one direction - perhaps she knew? She was a woman, didn't they usually know these sorts of things? What if she got lost on the way to her room and couldn't tell him where his was? He'd better follow her. He followed her. She fell into the door of what he presumed was her room and he couldn't stop himself from doing the same and suddenly he was pressed up against her and she turned around and giggled up at him and it was really only polite that he kiss her and so he did.

It had none of the finesse of their first attempt, he really wasn't at the top of his game at the moment - perhaps they shouldn't have had that second bottle? But her lips were firm and soft and there were...other parts of her that were delightfully firm and he found his hands on her hips and sliding upwards to the curve of her waist as they kissed and... _yes _those were _definitely _curves of the soft and lovely kind and was she gasping..?

He broke the kiss and leaned his head on the door to try and stop it from spinning. "Drunk," he said. "Both of us. Are drunk." She giggled again and ground her hips upwards and he groaned. "Should stop."

She was fumbling behind her and suddenly the door opened and they tumbled into the room with less dignity than Oghren. He had the presence of mind to shut the door behind him. She grabbed both his hands in hers and led him back towards the bed.

He realised that if things kept going the way they were he was going to make love to her for the first time and he _didn't _want the first time to be awkward and unmemorable so he stopped and pulled backwards. "Wait," he said. She pouted at him and that was soooo damned adorable that he couldn't help but kiss her again and suddenly they were on the bed and she was underneath him fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. Blast it. But he could do what he intended without being upright and he called forth his healing magic with only a few lapses of concentration, directing it at both of them.

Enough to take away the fumbling and awkward, but not so much as to remove the buzz. As his head began to clear he looked down to find her eyes suddenly solemn and her mouth slightly open.

"What did you do?" she asked.

He sat back, suddenly able to do so without falling, grinning sheepishly. "I wanted to make sure this wouldn't be something we regretted later," he said. "A little sobriety spell."

She sat up and mock-punched him. "Anders. We were having _fun."_

"Yes," he said, moving closer to her and lowering his voice, delighted to see her shiver, "and _now _we can have _more." _He closed his mouth over hers again and she sighed into him, leaning back on the bed as he moved over her, his hand reaching down to the hem of her skirt and starting to lift it and feel the deliciously smooth skin beneath...

The door slammed open.

"Andraste's sodding tits!" Anders swore, breaking off and looking over to the doorway to see an all-too-familiar set of armour encasing a figure there. "What..."

They were both thrown back against the bed by a white force that Anders _knew_ and had spent a good deal of time learning to resist. He shook his head and leapt to his feet, throwing a spell at the figure instinctively.

"Maker's breath!" Neria swore behind him. "What's a _templar _doing here?"

The templar in question was now encased in a forcefield.

"Nughumper!" Anders spat. "He must have felt my healing spell. Stupid, sodding, fun spoiling _bastard." _He had to stop himself from kicking the figure, who wouldn't have felt it any way. The forcefield would only last a few minutes and they had to think of something before then or he'd probably drag them both off to the Tower and Anders _really _didn't want to have to explain to Sigrun why her two most powerful mages were no longer available to help fight during a time of crisis.

"Are you wearing your amulet?" he asked Neria. "Most people accept that as proof that we're wardens."

She fingered the pendant around her neck. She hadn't taken it off since her joining. He had his own around his neck and he unbuttoned his shirt enough to make it clearly visible.

"We're going to need to make sure he can't drain us," Anders said. _Any more than he already has, at any rate._

"Paralysis?" she said.

"Can you? I've got no mana left."

She nodded.

"Ready?" he asked.

He released the forcefield as Neria cast her spell. The templar's eyes began to move - the only part of him that could, but at least he could hear and see now.

"Now I'm going to explain this in small words, so you understand clearly," Anders said slowly, standing directly in front of the templar, whose eyes were flashing with hatred. "The elven lady and myself are Grey Wardens," he held up his amulet and showed it to the templar. "We have leave to be in Amaranthine from the Commander of the Grey, Sigrun. We are _not _malificarum. Nor are we apostates. And you interrupted us." _Just as we were about to have a lot of fun, you pig. _"I'm justifiably _fairly angry _about that. But you'll notice we didn't suck all the blood out of your body, or cast any spell that's done anything other than hold you in place for a few minutes so we can explain. I _could _have burnt you to a crisp. But I didn't. So I'll ask you to kindly take yourself the sod out of here and _not come back._"

Neria stepped up to his side and they waited for the paralysis to wear off, hoping the templar wouldn't do anything stupid like try to attack them again.

When finally he moved his head they both instinctively took a step backwards, but he didn't smite them again. He didn't leave either though. Anders was rapidly beginning to realise that his night of fun wasn't going to end the way he wanted.

"Why don't we all head back towards Vigil's Keep?" the Templar said. "Perhaps your _Commander _would like to hear about how you recklessly use magic outside of her jurisdiction."

"Recklessly?" Neria said, her voice raising in register. "He was _healing _me!"

Anders couldn't help but admire the masterful tone of incredulity she managed.

"Oh, _healing _is it?" the Templar said. Anders rolled his eyes.

"I can assure you, Ser Templar, the Commander will confirm we are wardens and in Amaranthine with leave."

"You'll excuse me, Ser _mage _if I prefer not to believe you. Mages in regular clothing cavorting in inns are usually _not _on official business, and while I am grateful you didn't choose to utilise your more destructive talents while disabling me, it wouldn't be the first time an apostate tried to get out of punishment by playing the innocent."

"We were hardly cavorting," Neria muttered.

"Not yet any way," Anders muttered back. He raised his voice to the Templar. "What do you propose, then?" he asked. "It's the middle of the night. Do you really want to walk five miles in the freezing cold to the Vigil _now?"_

The Templar gave an evil grin. "I have nothing better to do," he said, and lunged forward suddenly, grasping one of each of their wrists in his gauntleted hands. Anders felt the familiar sickening lurch that meant his mana reserves had just been drained, and let out a groan.

_"Not polite," _he hissed. Then sighed. "Well, I'll have to get my things," he said, looking at Neria. She shrugged, looking just as weary and disappointed, and started to gather her outdoor clothes and pack.


	19. Chapter 19

"So why were you in Amaranthine any way?" Anders asked their silent companion. Surely he after a few miles he would realise they weren't bluffing. No sane apostate would traipse through the snow for five miles just to fool a Templar into believing they were a warden.

"Tracking," the Templar replied.

Neria nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. "There's no point," she said softly enough so the Templar couldn't hear. "He's not interested. Just leave him be. Sigrun will sort him out."

"I swear, if the Chantry would just let their Templars _get some_..." he let his voice rise on the last two words, hoping he would be overheard, "these sorts of things wouldn't happen."

The Templar ignored him. He'd put on his helm and shouldered his pack outside the Crown and Lion and hadn't removed it since, so conversation with him was difficult to say the least.

"How far do you think we've come?" Neria asked.

"Two, maybe three miles," Anders said. "Judging by how sore my feet are. Next time we decide to sneak off for a night of fun I'll make sure we take horses."

"It'll be dawn soon."

"No sleep. Great. I really function well on no sleep."

She slid her fingers down his arm and grasped his hand. Even though it was encased in a thick glove he still felt a shiver from her touch and a bloom of warmth in his belly. "We wouldn't have had any sleep if we'd stayed, either," she said huskily.

"Yes, but _that _sort of no sleep is _so much _more enjoyable," he said, pulling her closer to him.

The Templar snorted. "The faster you walk the faster we'll get inside," he said.

"Yes ser!" Anders said, then lowered his volume again. "If he hadn't drained our mana I'd just paralyze him again and we could go back to the inn."

"Got any lyrium potions?"

"No."

"What use are _you?"_

He leaned down and nibbled the tip of one of her deliciously pointed ears. "I'll show you later."

She shivered and gave a soft laugh.

The Templar in front of them had stopped. "What is it, Ser?" Anders asked.

"Can you hear that?" he said.

Anders cocked his head. "What?"

Neria let go of his arm and rushed forward suddenly. Her elven ears had obviously picked up something as well.

"Battle," she said. "It's coming from the keep."

Anders strained and could just catch the clash of weapons. "Andraste's knickerweasels," he swore softly. "And us without a drop of mana."

The Templar turned back to them. "If you _are _wardens, I'm going to assume you want to get there as quickly as possible."

Anders almost growled at him. "For what good it will do them," he snarled. "You've drained us both. We'd be useless. And we're unarmed."

There was a pause as the Templar shifted from foot to foot. He was very young, Anders realised. Probably a good six or seven years younger than he was. "I can give you lyrium," the Templar said eventually.

"Oh, you have your own little supply, don't you?" Anders said. "I forgot about that. Would you be willing to give it to us?"

"Once we're at the keep, certainly."

"Well what are we waiting for?" Neria said. She was straining to start running, he could see. He couldn't help but admire her lust for battle.

* * *

"So we know there was more than one tear then," Anders said as they surveyed the scene before them. They were hidden to the west of the keep in a copse of trees that overlooked the scene. The keep was surrounded by walking corpses, most of them armed with nothing but the claws on their hands. Archers on the walls were picking them off easily but there were so many and he didn't know how much longer their supply of arrows would hold out. As far as he could tell the walls were intact and the keep had not been penetrated. The undead must have come out of the deep roads somewhere other than under the keep itself.

"A few fireballs should help," Neria said. The corpses were remarkably agile and he could see several scaling the walls and being beaten back by wardens and Denerim soldiers.

"A grease slick on those walls wouldn't go astray either," Anders added.

The Templar was looking at them through the visor of his helm. After a long moment he reached into his pack and withdrew two lyrium potions. He handed them to the two mages. "If you turn out to be malificarum now," he said, "I probably deserve to get killed."

Anders rolled his eyes. "Considering what you interrupted," he said, "You're bloody lucky I didn't strangle you on the way here."

Neria laughed and downed her potion, as did Anders, and the sudden flare of power surrounding them briefly lit up the trees. "Fireballs?" he asked her. She nodded. "Then you do grease."

"Wait!" the Templar said. "What if they see you? We've got no protection here! We'll be surrounded by corpses in no time."

"What's your name, Templar?" Anders asked.

"It's... ah... Tristan, actually," he replied.

"Well, Tristan, there are some rather tall trees surrounding us here, and I was planning on climbing one once our spells have been cast. Probably you should do the same."

Neria chuckled. "They'll cover us," she said to the bemused man. "We should be able to get to the walls and be pulled up if we're quick enough. Anders and I will aim the spells to give us a corridor."

"Oh, ah... all right. If you think we'll make it..."

"Trust me," Anders said, grinning.

They whispered instructions to each other briefly. "Run when we do," Anders shouted as he let loose his first fireball.

It was chaotic, but luckily there were a few wardens posted on the walls that recognised him. As the corpses surrounding them burned and slipped Anders and Neria continued to bombard them with cold and fire spells of lesser and lesser magnitude as the small boost to their mana given by the lyrium ran out. When they hit the walls a rope was lowered and Anders looked up to see Nathaniel's face poking over the wall.

He lifted Neria up before him, then grabbed the rope and started to climb, grateful for once that he wasn't wearing his robes. He had a moment to think of the Templar in his heavy plate, and hoped the poor bastard was strong enough to pull himself up out of the mess that was below them. Once the two of them were over they looked back down to see the Templar struggling and he looked at Nathaniel who motioned to other soldiers over to help pull him the rest of the way.

"Thank you," Tristan panted once they were all on the battlements. None of the corpses seemed to have long range weaponry so they were safe for the time being.

"Interesting company you're keeping these days, Anders," Nathaniel commented over the noise.

"Oh, you know how much I love Templars," he said. "Is the Commander in the keep or fighting?"

"She's fighting on the south wall. They came from two directions at once."

"Blast," Anders swore. He looked at the Templar who shrugged.

"I'm at the disposal of the wardens, for now," Tristan said. Nathaniel cocked an eyebrow.

"Can you handle a bow?"

"Not so much. I have a crossbow, though."

Nathaniel nodded firmly and motioned to another Denerim soldier. "Go with Simpson," he said. "He needs some more long range artillery."

The Templar crossed his arms over his chest and bowed crisply to Nathaniel before following the soldier.

"Sure as I am that there's some sort of fascinating story behind this, I suggest the two of you get kitted up and come back out here. Mages are spread pretty thin and we may need healing on the south wall."

Anders and Neria nodded and started racing towards the keep.

When they reached the audience hall, however, Anders grabbed her hand and pulled her back into his arms. "I'm going to illicit a promise from you right now," he said, the opportunistic placing of his hands giving him no excuse not to squeeze a little as he spoke. She wriggled against him delightfully.

"What do you desire?" she said, trying _almost _unsuccessfully to sound sultry.

He growled and nuzzled her neck. "You and me. Your quarters. First conceivable opportunity."

"Count on it," she said, raising an arm to the back of his head and tilting his head towards her mouth. Their lips met fiercely in a kiss that stole his breath and set his pulse racing. He could feel her heart hammering at her ribs and crushed her more strongly to him for a second before releasing her and holding her at arms length.

"Be careful out there," he said, brushing a short strand of dark hair from her face.

"You too," she replied. He kissed the top of her head and they parted.

* * *

Neria was sent back to Nathaniel, considering her healing magic was rudimentary at best, but Anders had several severe cases to attend to at the south wall. The undead there _did _have bows and there were several arrow wounds that the other mages hadn't managed to attend to yet.

Neria stood next to Nathaniel on the battlements with her staff raised, immobilising enemies with sleep and waking nightmare so Nathaniel and the other archers could pick them off. Sevarin was there too, although using mostly the elemental magics. Neria was fine with a fireball or two every now and then, but she preferred the subtlety of entropy usually.

Dawn was breaking and the faint light seemed to make the undead quail. When the line finally broke and they began to run there was a ragged cheer from the defenders. She felt uneasy though. A familiar feeling was crawling across her senses - warden and mage at the same time.

"Wait," Neria said to Nathaniel. "There's something else out there."

Sure enough, behind the fleeing corpses, she could make out different figures. Taller, stooped figures.

"Demons," she hissed. "It's tearing the veil _here."_

Nathaniel looked at her helplessly. "What can we do?" he asked.

"Send messages for the other mages," she said. "Pass the word to everyone that they need to stay... awake..." lethargy was creeping over her limbs. "No. No. Nathaniel. I'm slipping."

"Slipping?"

"It's sucking me into the fade."

He grasped her arms and shook her. "Neria!" He said. She blinked, her hands suddenly not strong enough to hold her staff. He shouted over his shoulder, incomprehensible things, orders, she hoped. The archers near her started to bombard the coming demons and she could hear Sevarin's voice chanting spells, frantically hurling fireballs.

"Neria!" she could hear Nathaniel's voice as though from a long, long way away and she tried desperately to hang on to it, to keep herself anchored, but a night without sleep, a trek through the cold and the magic she had used had left her drained and empty, with no reserves to resist.

Darkness closed in on her.


	20. Chapter 20

_Don't forget. You're not really here. Don't forget._

She shook her head, suddenly crowded with odd thoughts of battlements and walking corpses. "Strange," she muttered as she chopped onions. She hadn't had to fight _that _sort of battle since she'd left the tower.

Pounce twined himself between her ankles, purring. "Shut it cat," she muttered. "I haven't got to the meat yet. You'll get yours when it's time."

The wind was blowing around the small house. She wondered where Anders had got to. _Probably out wandering, _she thought fondly.

The door clanged open a few minutes later, just as she was setting the onions and vegetables to cooking over the fire. She looked up, smiling, expecting to see Anders, possibly with some injured animal or plant that needed tending.

Instead she was faced with a pale, ghostly figure in armour. She dropped the ladle she was holding and instinctively called forth power. "Stay back!" she cried. This wasn't a Templar. It wasn't even _alive_. She was certain they'd left their pursuers behind months ago.

The figure stopped when it saw her power. "You must come with me," it said, the voice deep, booming and richly persuasive. "You are in danger here."

"What are you talking about?" she said.

"You are trapped in the fade," the figure continued. "If you do not accompany me now, the demon will possess your body and kill everyone around you."

"Excuse me if I don't believe you," she said, backing against the wall. As she moved, however, she felt the presence of Pounce at her feet and looked down. The cat was calmly regarding the figure as though he knew who, or what it was. Finally he padded towards the figure and sat looking up at it, mewling.

To her complete surprise the figure looked down at the cat and emitted what sounded like a chuckle. "A perceptive creature," it said. "And obviously attached to you, or it would not have followed. I take it you're a friend of the mage, Anders?"

"How do you know Anders? Who are you?"

"My name... such as you would call it.. is Justice." Something tugged at the back of her mind. Didn't Anders mention something about Justice once? When was it again? "Please, woman, you must believe me. If you do not come willingly you will not escape. Can you remember anything about how you were brought here?"

"We weren't _brought _here. We came on our own. Anders... " she trailed off. Where _was _Anders? He wasn't usually gone for this long without her. Or Pounce. She looked back down at the cat who's green eyes were boring into hers. There was a ritual, she remembered that part. And there had been dreams - dreams about darkspawn and demons and...

She snapped her head back up and dropped her hands, the power fizzling to nothing. _"You're _Justice?" she said.

He nodded firmly and held out a transparent hand. "You must come with me."

She looked at her own hand for a second, before hesitantly reaching it towards that of the spirit. He took it, and she noticed that her head cleared significantly as soon as their hands met. He was surprisingly solid, for someone so transparent. As he pulled her towards the door she looked back at Pounce, who was casually licking his paw. "Wait.." she said. "Pounce... is he in the fade too? We can't leave him here..."

"Cats have an affinity for the fade," Justice said. "He came when he felt your presence here, he will be able to leave just as easily. It is you we need to worry about."

"How do _I _get out then?" she asked.

"We need to confront the demon," Justice said, as he led her through the door. "It holds you here. Once you best it, you will be able to leave." Outside she expected to see the clifftop her fantasy house was placed on in her head, instead, however, they were in a clearing of the forest from her dreams.

"But Anders and I _together _couldn't defeat it..." she said as Justice led her under the canopy. "How am I supposed to do it on my own?"

"You do not need to destroy the demon," Justice said. "Indeed, I am uncertain that can be done at all. It is old and very powerful. But you can break its control over you and return to the waking world."

_Should be perfectly easy, _she thought to herself. "And how do we do _that?"_ she asked.

"Confront it," Justice said simply. "Duel it. Create a fade portal and leave. Much as you and Anders did before."

"You saw that?"

"This is my forest," the spirit said. "And I watch that particular demon closely."

They were moving much more rapidly through the trees than she and Anders had managed, perhaps because Justice knew the terrain better. She could feel the brooding menace of the darkspawn demon clearly ahead of them. From curiosity she attempted to call forth a fade portal but was met with resistance from within. It seemed Justice was right - she would have to confront the demon before she could leave the fade.

When they reached the clearing the demon was clearly visible, although now it had altered the terrain even further to resemble the camps of darkspawn she had seen scattered here and there throughout the deep roads. Skulls of humans on posts marked out the clearing - piles of weaponry and armour were scattered here and there. In the centre of the clearing there was a throne, all dark twisted metal and spikes, on which sat the darkspawn.

"So you have found an ally," it said as the two of them stood before it. "This one has caused me and my brethren much anguish over the past few years. I shall be glad to destroy him."

"You won't be destroying anyone," Neria said, with more confidence than she felt.

"I am destroying people as we speak," it said. "Your keep is still under siege. Your friends are dying, one by one."

"I don't believe you," she said. "We pushed back your army. It cannot stand against us."

"My army is neverending," it continued. "Whenever someone falls, whenever one of your own dies, they become mine. You cannot win against me."

"We were doing a pretty good job of defeating you when I got here," she said.

"Ah, but things change in the heat of a battle. Even now your _Anders..." _it hissed the name with so much venom that she realised it believed him far more of a threat than she had thought "is fighting for his life and that of his comrades on the south wall of your keep. He will be overrun. He will be _eviscerated." _

"Anders can look after himself," Neria said, even though her heart constricted at the thought of him battling on his own.

"But he wants so much to look after _everyone..." _the demon continued, the voice turning silky and smooth. "It's so easy to be distracted when you have an overabundance of _compassion."_

"You will not make her angry, demon," Justice said then. "She knows your kind. Best for you if you let her go."

"Why would I do that spirit?" the demon said. "She is ripe for possession."

"Because I will stop you," Justice said. "You will not take an innocent."

The demon stood, snarling. "How do you propose to stop me?" the demon said. "You may have made this forest prison of mine, but I _alter _it. It is only a matter of time before I can leave this place. Even now your other prisoners clamour to join me here - to support me - and when we break free - oh, I shall have a plethora of mages and wardens and darkspawn to possess, all of them by demons grateful to _me. _You have handed me more power than I could have gathered on my own, spirit. I should thank you." Justice did not answer, simply drew his sword and charged.

Neria hadn't expected it, but called forth power to back him up, hurling a stinging swarm towards the demon and gathering mana for a lightning bolt. Justice's sword, despite being insubstantial, seemed to hurt as much as any real blade would, as the demon screamed and batted at the magical insects the fade spirit sank it into the side of the creature. Blood spurted from the wound and the demon staggered back into the throne. But again, like their first attack, it laughed as it fell. "You can't kill me," it screamed.

Perhaps not, but Justice's distraction had obviously broken whatever hold on her was stopping her from calling a fade portal. She conjured the portal quickly, but as it formed she saw the demon's hands come up and clamp to the fade spirit's head. Justice screamed - an animal sound - and she leapt forward instinctively, grabbing the spirit around his waist and pulling him back from the demon's grasp. "Come on!" she shouted, pulling him towards the portal.

"No," Justice gasped back at her, struggling weakly against her grip. "I cannot go through your portal."

"Who says?" she said grimly, pulling the figure back and opening her palm to activate their way back to the waking world.

"You do not understand!" Justice said. "I have no body there... if I go through..."

But it was too late. The two of them plunged through the portal as the demon behind them rose to its feet, still laughing, still bleeding, still strong and undefeated. It's laughter surrounded her as the purple light of the portal swam before her eyes and she spun down towards her body and the waking world.


	21. Chapter 21

The last of the corpses fell as the sun rose completely over the keep, the cold winter light illuminating the mangled mess below the walls. The Denerim soldiers set to work collecting the dead bodies and burning them. Anders was more than relieved that only a dozen of the corpses were their own - none of them wardens, all dead of stray arrows before he had arrived. There were still some men and women who were not out of danger, but he had exhausted himself and could do no more without rest. He clambered down from the walls and headed back towards the west battlements, thinking to collect Neria and eat with her before collapsing.

He was so exhausted that he didn't even consider trying to fulfill the promise they had made before the battle, and he was amazed at himself that it could be so far from his mind. But he still craved the company of the elven mage - her gentle teasing and cheeky grin would do a lot to smooth the weariness from his limbs.

As he crossed the courtyard he made out the figure of Nathaniel carrying someone else in his arms. It took him a moment to realise that the figure was dressed in mage robes, and a moment more to realise that it was far too small to be Sevarin, and suddenly he was running, weariness forgotten.

Nathaniel saw him coming and altered his course to meet him in the middle of the courtyard. Anders found he was calling forth healing magic from reserves he didn't know he had but the rogue shook his head. "She's not injured, Anders," he said. Anders didn't hear his friend, but gently and insistently took the limp form of the elf into his arms. Her head flopped against his chest and her lips opened in a soft sigh, but her eyes were firmly closed.

"What happened?" he said, startled to hear the pain in his voice.

"The veil was torn near us," Nathaniel said. "She saw it happen. Then she said she was being sucked into the fade. She collapsed shortly after."

"Maker," he said, pulling her closer to him and resting his head on hers. "When did it happen?"

"Less than an hour ago," Nathaniel said. "I was going to take her to her quarters, but I'm glad you found us first."

"Let's get her there," Anders said. "Then I can go into the fade and find her."

Nathaniel looked like he was going to object, but instead said nothing as they walked briskly towards her quarters.

He was shocked to see Pounce sitting outside her room. As they approached the cat stood and moved aside so he could open the door. They went inside and he gently laid her on one of the bunks, unwilling to let go of her warmth. He tugged off one of her gloves and twined his fingers in hers, leaning over her and feeling her forehead with his other hand. After a moment he felt Nathaniel's fingers on his shoulders and a chair pushed behind him. He sank into it gratefully.

Ser-Pounce-A-Lot jumped onto the cot and curled next to Neria's still form, in the crook of her other arm, and promptly went to sleep.

"You'll need to get Armand and Branwen up here," Anders said, eyes not moving from Neria's face. "They can bring lyrium. I'll..."

"Anders, you can't go in after her," Nathaniel said softly.

He looked up to see his fellow warden standing on the other side of the bed, arms crossed over his chest and a resolute but sympathetic look on his face. "Yes I can," Anders said.

"Not now you can't. You're exhausted. Armand and Branwen are little better. They wouldn't even be able to begin the ritual. And..." the rogue breathed in a ragged, sad breath. "And we'll need to get Garic up here. And possibly the King and Tristan too, for that matter."

"Templars?" Anders felt his bile and anger rise. "You want _Templars _in here?"

"Anders..."

"Absolutely _not."_

Nathaniel sighed. "Stay with her," he said. "I'll find the Commander. She needs to know about this."

Anders didn't even hear him leave. Instead he laid his head on the cot next to Neria's hand and, still holding her hand, closed his eyes. Perhaps if he dreamt he'd be able to find her.

* * *

He woke with a start to the door opening. Pounce and Neria were still unmoving - he didn't think he'd been asleep for more than an hour. Sigrun was the first to come into the room, looking grim and exhausted, still in her leathers and carrying her crossbow.

"Anders," she said.

"Commander," he said. He didn't stand up or relinquish Neria's hand. He'd always liked Sigrun - for someone who insisted she was dead, he saw the same appreciation for the world that he himself felt. Once, when they'd been just newly wardens, she'd asked him to set a bush on fire. He'd been shocked at first, until he realised she was simply delighted with the _possibilities _of the world. It had made him smile.

But now his Commander was grim faced and he knew she was going to suggest something he wouldn't like.

"I've spoken with the king," she said softly. "And with Garic. They say there's a very real possibility Neria will wake up possessed."

"They don't know that," Anders said.

Sigrun sighed. "No, they don't. But we need to take precautions, Anders. We need to have at least one Templar in here with you."

"She won't let it possess her," he said. "She's too strong for that."

"What if it offers her something she can't resist?" another voice came from the doorway - Alistair. He was too tired to feel anything other than weariness. "Have you ever been in the thrall of a demon, Anders?" the king's voice was gentle, compassionate.

"No, of course not. Someone like you would have killed me if I was."

"I have," the King said.

"That's right," Anders said, looking up with a flare of anger. "Miranda saved you, as I recall."

Alistair smiled lopsidedly. "Yes she did," he said. "Along with everyone else we were traveling with. Out of all of us she was the only one who realised where we were and was able to break free. The _only _one."

"Neria will be able to," Anders said. "Or I'll go and find her. When Branwen and Armand can do the ritual..."

"Anders she might wake up before that can happen," Sigrun said.

"She won't let herself be possessed, Commander!" Anders said. "I _know _her. I was with her when we faced this demon."

Alistair sighed and leaned against the doorframe. "Anders, she may not have a choice."

"At least let King Alistair or one of the other Templars stay here with you," Sigrun said. "Until Branwen and Armand are rested enough to send you into the fade."

He glared at the King, who spread his hands helplessly. "It doesn't have to be me," he said.

"Just..." Anders felt his free hand clench and he forced himself to open it and bury it in Pounce's fur rather than act on his impulse to bloody the King's face. Again. It never did any good. "Please, don't do anything unless you're _certain."_

"I promise."

Sigrun gave a tight nod and left the room. Alistair looked hesitant for a second, before sinking into a chair near the bed, but not so near as to be able to touch Neria. He seemed, if possible, even more tense and nervous than normal.

He supposed it was better to have the King there rather than Garic, who would have tried to be cheerful and supportive, or Tristan, who was so green he would probably kill Neria as soon as look at her. Alistair at least was rested (he had directed his forces rather than take active part in the battle) and had experience with this sort of thing. And he wouldn't expect Anders to make polite conversation. Without Miranda there they really had no need to be civil to each other at all.

He wasn't a bad sort, though, really. Anders had to admit it to himself sometimes. A total arse, of course, no style and less subtlety, but he was kind hearted. And to be honest Anders wasn't going to spend the next while looking at the man, not when Neria was... where she was.

Her cheeks were gently flushed and she was breathing evenly and deeply. His eyes searched her face for any sign of internal struggle but could see none. With her large dark eyes closed she looked older - he had never asked her age and it was difficult to tell with elves in any case. Too young for this to be happening to her.

He had to blink suddenly to hold back tears and he ducked his head, hoping the King hadn't seen.

It was only an hour later when he felt her fingers tighten on his. He looked up at her face, and saw a slight frown form. He heard Alistair lean forward in his chair. Anders glared at him, but the King didn't notice, he was studying Neria's face.

Her eyes flickered a few times then opened. She saw Anders and smiled. He let out a whoop of joy and lunged forward, plastering her mouth with a resounding kiss.

When he pulled back, however, her eyes were puzzled. "Curious," she said, her voice rusty. "Kristoff had memories of such things, but they did not adequately capture the sensation."

Anders hand flew to his mouth. _Kristoff? _he thought. _Oh, holy maker._

She turned her head to him and the expression on her face was familiar enough to make him groan.

"Justice?" he said.

"Anders," the elf responded, but the tone, the inflection was _all _the fade spirit's. "We appear to have a problem." Her face twisted and changed suddenly, to an expression of shock and confusion. "I'll say!" she continued - and there was no doubt this time the words were Neria's.

"Andraste's frilly knickers," Alistair swore from the other chair. "What's going on?"

"Get Sigrun," Anders said. "Call for her or something. She needs to know what's happening here."

"What _is _happening here?"

"If I'd known this would happen I wouldn't have dragged him through the portal," Neria said. At least, he guessed it was Neria.

Alistair still hadn't moved from his chair.

"We're safe," Anders said to him. "She's not possessed. Well. Not exactly. Um. Didn't Miranda tell you about Justice?"

"The fade spirit?"

"Yes, the fade spirit."

"She did tell me about him. It's just that she described him as more... dead."

"Well of course he was more dead - he was inhabiting a corpse. Now he appears to be inhabiting Neria."

"Probably "sharing" would be a better term," Neria said. "I'm sharing the body of this elf at present."

Anders had to repress a giggle that was dangerously close to hysteria. "I hope you're asking permission before you're using her mouth like that," he said, then turned back to Alistair. "Your majesty, will you please get Sigrun? I assure you we're in no danger here."

The King stared at him for a moment, then shook himself and stood, moving to the door. Anders brought his attention back to Neria, who was sitting up, looking more confused than ever. "Um..." she said. "No. Wait. Uh... " she shook her head violently, raising her hands. "Stop!" she shouted. He grabbed her arm.

"Justice, I suggest _very strongly _that you stop trying to use Neria's body for anything." _That's my job,_ he thought, then mentally slapped himself for having dirty thoughts about someone who was currently... not entirely herself.

Neria blinked a few times and seemed to be having some sort of internal dialogue. After a few moments, she sighed.

"Right," she said. "It's all right. He's... terribly apologetic. He says he won't talk through me again without warning you - and me first. He says..." she paused for a moment, her head tilted to one side. "He says he didn't know this would happen. If there had been a corpse nearby he would have taken that instead. But there wasn't. So..." she shrugged her shoulders, then looked at him helplessly. He wanted, very badly, to kiss her again. But if he kissed her he'd also be kissing..

"Eww," he said suddenly, again touching his mouth.

"Eww what?" she said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Sorry," he said. "I just... well I think I just kissed Justice. And he's not really my type."

Stern disapproval flickered across her face for a second, before it was replaced by embarrassment. "Uh... yes," she said. "It was a nice way for _me _to wake up though," she added, giving him her cheeky grin. He grinned back at her.

"Ask him how we can get him out of you," he said then. "Not that I'm not glad to have him around... but it's a little... inconvenient.. for the two of you to be in the same body."

She cocked her head again. "Well he says we should be separate entities again if we re-enter the fade. But I'll have to be conscious - there's no point going if I'm dreaming."

"Is he certain?"

She frowned. "No. But it's only logical, surely?" she looked hopeful and he felt a chill of foreboding. Justice's last body had been completely obliterated by explosives. If that was the only way for him to get back into the fade...

He pulled her closer to him and kissed her forehead. "What is it?" she asked him. He held her tighter, refusing to follow the thought to any conclusion, logical or otherwise.


	22. Chapter 22

Moving was difficult. Anders had let go of her, eventually, and although her body hummed where he had been touching her she was relieved to have a little space from him. She was uncertain exactly how much Justice could hear of her thoughts, although she suspected it was more than she wanted him to.

_I must once again apologise, _he said - or thought to her. _I did not think I would be anchored in your body like this._

_It's all right, _she replied. _I was the one who forced you through the portal, it's my fault really._

_If I had explained more thoroughly..._

_When exactly could you have done that? _she thought at him, tartly. _Before the demon clamped your head in a vice? Or after it had sucked the life out of you?_

_Good point, _he replied. _I am uncertain how to relinquish control of your limbs, _he continued after a moment. _When I inhabited Kristoff there were no impediments to my control._

_I think if you relax I'll be able to move,_ she said.

_Relax?_

She sighed and rolled her eyes, bringing her focus back to the outside world for a moment. Anders was at the dressing table, pouring water into a cup. "We're having difficulty working out who gets to move my legs," she said as he returned and offered the cup to her. She hesitantly lifted her hand, feeling no resistance. _That's it, _she said. _Just... don't do anything. Step back from me._

She felt a withdrawal of Justice's presence, although she could still feel him, it was as though he had moved away from her. _Is this better? _he asked.

"Much better," she said.

"Sorting things out?" Anders asked.

She nodded and drank the cup of water down in one go.

_What was that? _Justice said.

_Water, _she replied. _I just drank a cup of water. Don't tell me you never did _THAT.

_Kristoff's body was dead, _the spirit replied. _It did not require nourishment._

"This could take a lot of getting used to on your friend's part," Neria said. "Did you know he's never drunk a glass of water before?"

Anders chuckled. "We should feed you some chocolate and see how he copes," he said. "Or..." Anders looked at her with eyes suddenly dark. She felt a delightful shiver run down her back and warmth flare in her belly, thinking of how his lips had felt just a few moments before...

_What was _that? Justice said, sounding shocked.

She had to almost physically pull herself away from the memory.

"Um, perhaps you shouldn't look at me like that," she mumbled to Anders, dropping her eyes and frantically trying to banish all thoughts of kisses from her head.

"Why not?"

"Because she is becoming sexually aroused and is embarrassed about it," she heard her voice say.

Anders blushed and looked down. She didn't think she'd _ever _seen him blush before. Discomforted Anders. It was doing nothing to restore her equilibrium to see him flustered like this, especially since she noticed he was not only blushing, but grinning a rather self-satisfied grin at the same time. "Ah.. not polite, Justice. Eavesdropping, I'd call it."

"I do not have any choice in the matter, Anders," Justice continued. She was too embarrassed to stop him from talking through her. Possibly too embarrassed to say anything ever again. "I am trapped in this body. I feel what it feels."

"She's a _she," _Anders said forcefully._ "_Not an _it_."

"As you wish."

"And I thought you were going to warn us before you spoke through her."

"At this juncture, I assumed you would be aware which of us was speaking."

"True enough."

The door opened again, admitting Sigrun and Alistair and the King's elven companion - Zevran. She was grateful for their presence. Looking anywhere other than Anders was difficult, and looking _at _Anders was impossible.

_Thinking _about looking at Anders was impossible.

_Do not feel you need to repress your natural urges because of my presence, _Justice said.

She buried her face in her hands. "Maker's breath," she muttered. "This is _not going well."_

When she raised her head, hoping some of the red of her embarrassment had faded, Sigrun was standing by her bed.

"What's happened?" the dwarf asked.

Anders looked at her and she swallowed. "I was sucked into the fade," she said. "The demon had me in thrall - Justice managed to pull me out. But in the process of escaping he.. uh... tagged along."

"He's in your body?"

"Yes."

Sigrun's lips twitched and she got the distinct impression the dwarf was trying not to laugh. "Well. That will be interesting for you both," she said.

"Interesting is hardly the word I would use," Anders said.

"May I speak with him, Neria?" Sigrun said.

She nodded. The feeling of Justice coming to the fore and using her mouth was less strange this time, she simply relaxed her jaw and words were suddenly arriving. "Sigrun," he said. "You are Commander of the wardens now?"

Sigrun grinned. "Something amusing you, Justice?"

"It seems a little strange, that is all. I assumed Miranda would offer the position to Nathaniel."

"Who said she didn't? Nathaniel was too smart to say yes though. I, on the other hand, rather enjoy getting to order people around for a change."

"And are you still stealing daggers?"

The dwarf let out a bark of a laugh. "It's not nearly as much fun as it used to be, I assure you."

"I hate to interrupt, Commander," Alistair said. "But surely you need..."

"Information," Sigrun finished for him. "Yes. I do."

Neria felt her shoulders shrug themselves. "What I know I will share," Justice said.

"Here?" Sigrun asked.

"We have not yet mastered movement," Justice said. "I do not think it would be wise to attempt it at present." Neria agreed wholeheartedly.

"It's a bit crowded in here," Anders said.

Sigrun shrugged. "For you big folk, maybe," she said, plonking herself on the spare bunk. Zevran grinned and sat next to her. Quite closely, Neria noted.

Alistair leaned against the wall and Anders settled in the chair he had been in when she woke.

"You made the forest in our dreams," Anders said as he sat.

Justice nodded. "Yes. After Kristoff's body was destroyed I found myself back in the fade. Just as I had been before you found me in the Blackmarsh-that-was. Yet my time in this world had left me.. unsatisfied. I wished to do more to help the people of your world. But there is so little in the fade that affects you here... there was very little I _could_ do. Until I thought of the forest."

"There were other demons there, yes?" Anders said. "Were they imprisoned by you?"

"Yes. I destroyed many demons, but some were too powerful. Those I could not destroy I trapped in the forest. I wished to stop them from possessing innocents in the waking world."

A strange expression crossed Anders' face. "That was.. a worthy goal, Justice," he said.

"I am afraid I may have done more harm than good," the spirit continued ruefully. "Had I not captured the pride demon, it may not have found it necessary to raise the armies you have faced. I also thought I would be able to free the darkspawn it possessed, but I cannot fathom the motives of the creature and as such I cannot penetrate whichever dream the demon has spun for it."

"You don't know that it wouldn't have gathered the army anyway, Justice," Sigrun said. "In fact from what I've heard of it it would have done far more damage had you not confined it in the fade. It wants to possess a mage - and it being able to move freely on the surface would certainly not help anyone at present."

"And I'll wager the other demons you have imprisoned would have done their fair share of damage as well," Alistair added.

She could feel the fade spirit's uncertainty.

_They're right, _she told him. _You've probably saved many, many lives._

"What about the darkspawn demon?" Sigrun asked. "Do you have any idea what it would take to defeat it?"

"I believe I do," Justice said. "If it were attacked both in the fade and this world at the same time we may be able to destroy it. It draws strength from both places - as long as it can retreat to one of them it will endure."

"So, we still have to locate its darkspawn body," Sigrun said, sighing. "We've been searching the deep roads for weeks with no sign of it."

"I should be able to help with that," Justice said. "Now that I'm here. It is a creature of both worlds, as am I. I can sense it."

"Ah," Anders said. "And would this involve you staying in Neria's body?"

Justice turned to look at him and nodded. "I fear so," he said. "Without her mage and warden abilities I would be of little use. A corpse, should I possess it, has no affinity for magic. Unless it is the corpse of a mage, of course."

"Yes, well we don't have any of those handy I'm afraid," Sigrun said.

Neria looked back at Anders helplessly. He had an anguished look on his face that made her own heart constrict, prompting a puzzled reaction from Justice. "It's not forever," she said. "Just till we find the demon and kill it."

_If you wish it I will depart immediately, _Justice said. _As soon as we can enter the fade. I have no desire to stay if you do not want me here - this is not just._

_No, _she replied. _The demon has to be killed and you're the best chance we have of finding it. You stay for now._

_But you wish to be free of me! _His mental voice was a cry.

_Yes. But I wish to defeat the demon more, _she answered.

_Whenever you look at him your body tells me otherwise. _

She laughed, drawing puzzled stares from the rest of the people in the room. _Justice, our bodies often pay little or no attention to our brains. Best you learn that if you're going to be living in this one for a while._

_Flesh creatures make no sense to me._

_Trust me, _she said. _They often make no sense to each other either._

"It's my choice to have him stay," Neria said. She reached out and took Anders' hand in hers. "And _yes_, this is Neria talking. We need to defeat the demon, he's our best bet at finding it."

Anders' jaw clenched and she could _see _what he was thinking, because it was exactly what she was thinking. "I think we'd all like it," he said eventually, "if we did this thing _incredibly quickly."_

"No arguments here," Alistair said.

"May I suggest a show of some force?" the light voice of Zevran suggested. "From what you have told me this creature seems powerful and will no doubt have surrounded itself with allies - both darkspawn _and _demon."

"If we send any more than six wardens into the deep roads the darkspawn can sense us," Anders said.

"Well then," the elf continued, "we have all these enthusiastic Denerim soldiers here as well - and I am also quite familiar with killing darkspawn."

Sigrun got to her feet. "We'll discuss it," she said. "In the mean time, we all need rest. And food. Anders, I'll arrange some to be sent up to you and Neria here if you wish. But I insist you go to sleep directly afterwards." Anders nodded. "The rest of you - go. Get some sleep. Eat. We'll meet at sundown."

Alistair and Zevran left with Sigrun, leaving her alone... well, as alone as she could be, with Anders.

"Food will be nice," he said, smiling tentatively at her.

"Interesting, I'm sure," she said. "Justice hasn't eaten anything before and I feel a bit like I haven't either."

"Do you think you can try moving now?" he asked.

She could feel Justice remove himself from her a bit and nodded. "I should try it now, I suppose, since you're here to catch me if I fall. It would be a bit embarrassing if I had trouble later."

She suddenly thought of all the things she would have to do with Justice...looking and caught her breath in embarrassment. Justice seemed totally bewildered. _Great, _she thought. _He never had to do _that _either._

"What's wrong?" Anders asked.

"Believe me," she said, hesitantly swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "You don't want to know." Anders looked intrigued, but curbed his questions and came to her side to help her to her feet. She managed with little difficulty.

"Seems like you're doing all right," Anders said.

"As long as Justice stays back, it seems pretty normal," she said, holding tightly to his hand and trying _very hard _not to think about how close he was to her. She took a step, noticing that her limbs were weak with exhaustion and hunger. She could _feel _Justice trying not to interfere, the rigid control he was exerting over his own desire to move. Anders, probably without thinking, let his hand rest on the small of her back as she moved and the sudden jolt of his touch sent her reeling and Justice tried to take control and suddenly she was falling and Anders had both his arms around her waist to keep her upright and that was enough to send heat flaring all over her body she _knew _he felt the same because he twisted her to face him and suddenly he was kissing her again, open mouthed and greedy and his hands were moving on her back and all she wanted to do was surrender herself to the burning _want _that was pulsing along her nerves but _he was watching_ and more than that _he was feeling _what she was feeling...

Anders must have realised the same thing because he pulled back with a groan. "Maker, I'm so sorry," he said, gently helping her to sit in the chair he'd recently vacated and taking a firm step backwards. "It's just... very hard..." his face was red again and he was trying desperately to look anywhere but at her.

She felt the same.

_Really, _Justice said. _I would not have interfered had you wished to proceed._

"That's not a helpful thing to have said, Justice," Neria snapped, forgetting in her confusion to keep the words in her head. _You might not have interfered, _she thought, _but you would have _watched.

"What did he say?" Anders said, sounding mortified.

"Ah, you don't want to know," she said. "Suffice to say it would probably be a good idea if we... didn't... do that again."

_Flesh creatures are extremely strange, _Justice was saying. _You both want to do this. It is obvious. Why deny it? It will not hurt anyone._

"The body Justice inhabited was married, didn't you say?" she asked Anders, trying desperately stay focused.

"Yes," Anders said.

_Ok, then Justice. What would Kristoff have thought about making love to his wife _in front of his mother.

There was a long silence from the fade spirit.

_I find no memory of that occurring, _he said finally.

She resisted the urge to scream. _Did he _ever _make love to his wife in front of anyone? _

_No. _Justice said. _Not that I can remember._

_Well, there's a _reason _for that, _she continued. _It's a _private _thing. And while I appreciate that you are willing to... let us... just take it from me that neither of us want to right now. _She could feel his argument starting and stopped him from voicing it _no matter _what _you think my body wants. Body and mind are _different. _Remember that._

Anders was looking at her with a puzzled and desperate expression on his face. She shrugged helplessly.

"I'm sorry," she said. "This is going to be difficult for a while."

"Well, yes," he replied. "But... also pretty funny when you think about it."

"I thought you were speechless with embarrassment."

"Oh, definitely," he grinned. "But part of me is ever so slightly delighted to be giving that old stick in the mud a bit of entertainment."

She felt her own lips twitch upwards in a smile.

_"Stick in the mud", _Justice said. _I assume this is an expression which refers to my demeanor?_

She couldn't suppress the giggle that spilled from her lips, and she didn't try to.

When the servant arrived with their food he found two mages practically helpless with laughter.


	23. Chapter 23

He woke feeling marginally more human, with Pounce's face directly in his. The cat's tongue was extended towards his nose and he quickly grabbed the animal and sat up in bed. Licking him was Pounce's favourite way of waking him up in the morning - as there was nothing more likely to make Anders bounce out of bed than the prospect of a raspy cat tongue across his nose.

It was darkening outside as he washed and dressed, wondering whether Sigrun would send them into the deep roads now or wait until the morning. He was hungry again - naturally, so once he was ready he made a side trip to the dining hall and ate a quick meal. Then he made his way up to Sigrun's study.

Everyone was already there - he must have slept longer than he thought. Neria was standing near the window looking out on the courtyard and he had to resist the urge to go to her and.. do lots of things actually... With all that had happened he'd forgotten that Sigrun frowned on that sort of thing between her wardens. But then, unless Alistair or Justice had told her everything that happened after Neria woke up she didn't _officially _know that anything was going on at all.

"Ah, you're here," Sigrun said. "Good. We'll be sending a party into the deep roads at first light tomorrow. I'm assuming you want to be part of it."

"Absolutely," he said.

"We'll send a contingent of Denerim soldiers with you - Zev will command them." _Zev? _Anders thought. _When did she start calling him that? _"Also, Neria and Justice, obviously, and Nathaniel. Oghren's turned up again, so I told him he could go as well as long as he promises to go back to Felsi for at least a month afterwards, especially since he's got some Templar training. You'll need two mages to perform the ritual to let you enter the fade once you get to the demon. Who would you like?"

Anders shrugged. "Armand and Branwen?"

"You're not including Sevarin in there?"

Anders started guiltily. "Sorry."

"It's all right, Anders," Sigrun said, grinning a little. "He's not here to be offended. And we all know how little he enjoys the deep roads."

"I can't convince you to wait for the circle mages?" Alistair said.

Sigrun shrugged. "They could be two more weeks away," she said. "And traveling in winter is always a problem. We really can't sit around and wait for them - not when we have an opportunity to end this now."

"Plus which, I don't really want to entertain my guest for that long," Neria added from the window. Anders grinned.

"What happened to the Templar, Tristan?" he asked, suddenly remembering.

"The one you brought back from Amaranthine?" Sigrun said. "He was wounded in the attack - but he's recovering."

_Good, _he thought. _So he can't come complaining about Neria. Or tell tales to Sigrun about what we were up to before he found us._

"So," Anders said. "Ten Denerim soldiers, six wardens and an Antivan crow. Will that be enough, do you think, Justice?"

"I believe so," Neria's voice said. "You and Neria and I should enter the fade once we reach the demon while the others attack its physical body."

"The two of us couldn't defeat the demon last time we were there," Anders pointed out.

"No, you could not. But I was not with you then. And the demon's physical body was not being threatened. I believe it will be enough. It will have to be, considering we do not have any more mages to spare."

Anders considered the spirit's words. For the first time he was tempted to try waiting for the circle mages to get to the keep. But if the demon managed another attack - one where any of them were sucked back into the fade - they might not be so lucky getting out again. The other mages at the keep were not as strong as Neria was, and even she had had help from Justice escaping the thrall of the demon.

"We'll assemble in the courtyard at dawn," Sigrun said briskly. "Now, I suggest you all get some more rest."

They stood and dispersed, but as he turned to go, Sigrun called him back to her desk. He noticed Zevran lingering by the doorway until the dwarf shot him a look. With a cocked eyebrow and a grin the elf left and Anders had time to wonder if Sigrun had fallen victim to the handsome assassin's charms in the short time he had been here. Or had it started on the King and Queen's last visit? He'd been a little preoccupied then.

"I had a little talk with our Templar, in the hospital," Sigrun said once the room was clear.

_Sod it._

"Oh?"

"He said you and Neria were using magic at the Crown and Lion."

He tried to think of a way to get around this that would not make him look like an idiot. He'd _promised _Sigrun that he wouldn't embarrass her on his trips away from the keep. Miranda had more leeway with the populace than she did - being the Queen and the Hero of Ferelden _and _Commander of the Grey had packed an awful lot of punch and given her wardens a lot more freedom than he suspected Grey Wardens anywhere else in Thedas were given. Sigrun was not so lucky. A duster who was technically dead to the rest of the dwarves in Orzammar, she was tolerated by the nobles only because Nathaniel was there to back her up and some of the commoners were downright distrustful of her.

The position had worn even her cheerful demeanor down over the past year and he didn't want to make it any more difficult for her than it already was.

"A little healing magic," he said cagily. "We were... well, I suppose you'd say intoxicated by that stage. I didn't want us to do anything stupid."

Her lips twitched. "You didn't want to do anything stupid. So you sobered yourself up?"

He nodded.

"Who are you and what have you done with Anders?"

"Oh, hah very hah," he said. "Just as I grow some responsibility. You mock me."

"What stupid thing were you about to do that required sobriety?" she asked. The question _sounded _innocent, but he felt a little like he was a fly caught in her web.

"We didn't do it, so it's hardly relevant."

Sigrun leaned forward and put her delicate chin in her hands, her blue eyes twinkling and boring into his. "You know the Grey Warden policy against fraternization," she said.

"Would you like me to recite it?"

"Anders. I'm not made of patience, and I'm being serious."

He sighed. "I know, Commander," he said. "I'm sorry. I'll try not to embarrass you again."

She waved a hand. "It's a Grey Warden policy, Anders," she said. "Not mine. Just be careful. Especially now."

He frowned. "Last time you had this little talk with me I was lucky to get out with my robes intact," he said after a pause. "What's changed?"

"The last time I had this little talk with you, Anders, you were... fraternizing with at least three different wardens at the same time. I think we were all justified in wanting to set your robes on fire then. I get the feeling this is different. Am I right?"

"When did you get to be an expert on my love life?"

She laughed. "Let's just say I've had some advice in the past few weeks."

"Oh ho! Advice is it? From_ elves_?" He was delighted to see her blush - clearly visible even under her tattoos.

"Anders, I'm your friend, you know that. And it's good to see you... caring about something other than that cat and... " She paused, biting her bottom in a way that made her look much younger.

_Someone you can't have, _he finished the sentence in his head for her. He smiled more genuinely at her, trying to convey thanks at her concern without losing his own composure. Then sucked at his teeth. "So.. did Zevran seduce _you _or have you had your eyes on _him _for a while?''

"Get," she said, pointing at the door.

He didn't have to be told twice.

* * *

The following morning they gathered in the courtyard of the keep. Winter had firmly gripped Amaranthine and the Vigil and they were dressed for it - in heavy winter gear over their armour and robes. Anders was bleary eyed and groggy - his sleep during the day before had messed him up and he'd been unable to rest easily during the night - not that he'd ever been particularly fond of seeing the sun come up. He bolstered himself with a small rejuvenation spell, thinking it would be better to appear fresh now, even if he paid for it later.

Pounce had been reluctant to let him out of his rooms, curling around his legs and mewling pathetically at him and he'd felt obscurely guilty at finally getting away from the animal. The kitchen staff looked after him perfectly well during Anders frequent absences, but he often wished the cat was still small enough to be carried with him. The reassuring furry weight on his neck gave him confidence.

The Denerim soldiers were disciplined and quiet. Zevran was moving among them giving short words of encouragement and command as they stood in the crisp air. Sigrun was talking earnestly with Neria (although he suspected she was actually talking earnestly with Justice - the way she was holding her hips and head were distinctly not Neria) and Branwen and Armand had their heads close together, discussing something.

Once they were all organised they made their way down into the deep roads.

Traveling with such a large group was new to him. When he'd first become a warden they'd never really traveled with more than four - a symptom of having so few wardens rather than any specific tactical agreement. It had made for some interesting trips - especially at the beginning when it had just been him and Oghren and Nathaniel. The tension between the Commander and Nathaniel had been palpable, Oghren had been... well just plain disgusting really and the Commander had spent much of the time trying to adjust her fighting style around no longer having Alistair with her.

Once Sigrun and Velanna and Justice had arrived, however, they'd become a lot more coordinated. But traveling with a group of soldiers who were not wardens, who had not spent time in the deep roads - who didn't understand the true nature of the darkspawn - it was unsettling and a little like being on display. He noticed some of the soldiers eyeing him and realised that most of them would never have worked with mages who weren't under strict Templar supervision. If they were at all religiously devout they probably thought he was going to start spouting fireballs or seducing them.

The next time he caught a soldier looking at him nervously he had to resist the urge to bear his teeth at the man and growl - just to see how he'd react.

"They are good men," a heavily accented voice by his side said. Zevran.

"You know, unless you're trying to kill me, you really don't have to sneak up on me like that," Anders said to the elf.

He chuckled. "It is good to see you again, my friend. I find I am nostalgic about our journey home from Tevinter. All that bickering between you and our smelly friend. The constant worry about your cat. Most pleasant."

"You know, I was just thinking how much I missed you using my head as a dagger throwing target."

"I was aiming to miss, my dear mage. Always to miss."

"And I suppose I have to think I'm lucky you're a good shot."

The elf sighed. "I notice you have found a new friend amongst your mages," he said.

"Is this why you wanted to talk to me?"

"The romantic entanglements of my friends are always of interest, indeed. Especially when they come with such delicious complications. You seem particularly skilled at finding women who are... difficult to seduce."

"All women are difficult to seduce, Zevran. If you're doing it _properly..."_

"It depends on the final goal of the seduction, Anders. If you are simply looking for entertainment, _no _woman is difficult to seduce."

"Is that the goal of _your _current seduction? Entertainment?"

Zevran threw back his head and laughed. "Oh, you are an observant one," he said. "What gave me away?"

"She blushes easily."

"You noticed, did you? One of her greatest charms." The elf sighed lustily. "I must admit, I had little planned for our current situation. But she _is _delectable. I had never truly appreciated the dwarven form before."

"I probably shouldn't be listening to this," Anders said.

"No, you probably shouldn't. Still, I wanted to wish you luck, with your elven mage. She is quite lovely. And truly, sometimes it is _intriguing_ to have an audience."

Anders rolled his eyes. "Not _this _audience, trust me."

They broke off their conversation when Neria approached. They had reached the first true fork in the deep roads - and a decision needed to be made about which one to choose. "I can feel the direction we need to go," Justice said. "But I will need a map of the roads to plot a course."

Anders removed his pack and got his out. "Will this do?" he said. She nodded firmly. Zevran called for a halt as she examined the map, spreading it on the ground and spacing out distances hesitantly. "Is there a problem?" Anders asked.

"Justice isn't familiar with maps," Neria said. It was much easier, now, to tell which of them was speaking. Neria's voice was softer, more expressive. Justice didn't seem to have more than one volume. "We're having to work together on this. It's a bit complex."

"Take your time," Anders said. She nodded. He looked up to see Zevran eyeing her with a speculative look on his face. He resisted the urge to bat the elf away like a fly - he was entirely too interested in Neria's current state of mind.

Finally Neria looked up. "Not great," she said. "The demon is off the map. We've got a long journey ahead of us. And we'll be doing the last part of it blind."

"Hooray," Anders said. She grinned at him as he helped her to her feet.

"We have supplies for two weeks," Zevran said.

"We'll have to use the supply dumps on the way back," Anders said.

_And that's assuming we're successful, _he thought to himself,_ and come back at all._

Anders was usually an optimistic person, but he was truly hoping that optimism wasn't all they had going for them.


	24. Chapter 24

_I am curious, _Justice said as they tramped through the deep roads.

_What about? _she asked him.

_You. And the mage Anders. Why is it that you are attracted to each other?_

She nearly stopped walking in surprise at the question. _Why? _she asked. _I'm not sure I understand what you mean._

_It seems a simple enough question, _Justice continued. _I wonder what it is that makes you attracted to him rather than to someone else. I was puzzled by this when in Kristoff's body also. Kristoff and Aura shared affection and physical attraction, yet there were many others in both their lives who had similar attributes. Why did they choose each other? What are the mechanics behind this?_

She pondered for a long moment, daring to glance across at Anders, who was walking with Nathaniel. He seemed to feel her watching and looked across at her, flashing a quick grin that made her blush.

_It's a difficult question to answer Justice, _she said. _I don't think any one has come up with a satisfactory answer. I... enjoy Anders company. And he is... pleasing to look at. Maybe that's all that's required for an attraction to form?_

_Yes, _Justice said. _And yet if it were that easy, why is it that Aura was so emotionally moved by the death of Kristoff? Had it been so simple to form an attachment, why would it cause so much grief at its finish?_

_I wish I knew, Justice, _she said.

_Also the _intensity _of the physical attraction is puzzling to me. I never felt it first hand with Kristoff because all I had were his memories... with you however..._

She felt herself grow hot with embarrassment, but tried to repress it. Really, Justice was just curious, and she couldn't blame him. The intensity of her feeling for Anders even shocked her at times - it was nothing like the sweet anticipation she had felt whenever she looked at Tobias, or the raw physical attraction she had felt sometimes for other men.

_It's a puzzle, _she said, smiling a little. _And I'm sorry if you feel awkward sometimes - I realise that you're just trying to understand._

_I think I am very fortunate that I ended up in your body rather than the body of some other flesh creature, _Justice said. _Some would not be so understanding._

"What are _you _smiling about?" Anders said. He had managed to approach without her noticing during the exchange.

"Oh, Justice is just asking personal questions again. He's actually very sweet, you know. You never mentioned that."

"Sweet?"

"Jealous?"

"I am writhing with jealousy, actually," he said. "I mean, he gets to be _in your body. _Men would kill for that opportunity. That's just... _wow."_

_Tell him that I am not a male in the sense he believes, _Justice said. _Truly I had no gender before I inhabited Kristoff's body. _She laughed.

"What's funny?"

"Justice says he doesn't have any sex," she said, deliberately misquoting to see Anders' reaction, which was definitely worth it. The blond mage's jaw dropped and he nearly stumbled. She continued. "He says he's not a male in the sense you are thinking. He had no gender before he inhabited Kristoff."

"Oh? He seemed pretty _male _in the fade."

"That was because you were perceiving me through your own maleness, Anders," Justice said.

"My incredibly manly manliness, you mean," Anders replied. Neria snorted. "Was that you laughing, Neria, or did I finally manage to find something that Justice is amused by?"

"It was me laughing," she said. "But Justice is definitely amused."

"I suppose 'amused' is better than 'angry'."

She reached out and took his hand. He looked down at it for a moment before his face softened into a smile. "It's a bit pointless, pretending not to care," she said softly. "He's been telling me that since I woke up."

Anders cocked an eyebrow at her. "I suppose," he said, then leaned down and kissed her forehead softly. "But that's as far as I'm willing to go with an audience. At least until we know each other a _lot _better."

The trip through the deep roads was becoming routine for her. They encountered a few groups of darkspawn who were easily dispatched with their superior numbers. No one was hurt.

If it hadn't been for her constant companion, she figured she would have been actually getting a taste of what her life as a Grey Warden would be like - once the current crisis was past. Sigrun had told them when they'd first been recruited that their current mission was to find the last of the darkspawn who knew of the Architect and the Mother. There were pockets of them all over - darkspawn who still attacked human settlements, who did not follow the siren call of the archdemons still trapped beneath the earth.

They were a surrogate police force for the city of Amaranthine on occasion, although that duty didn't fall to the mage wardens, who were often called upon for healing instead. Wardens from Orlais and even Weisshaupt were occasionally stationed at the Keep, ostensibly to help the Ferelden wardens with their duties, but probably, Anders had confided to her, to make sure they weren't doing anything stupid.

There was a sense of anticlimax amongst some of the wardens considering there had only just been a blight, and several had reacted badly to the news of the Joining's side effects. None of the mages had done so, however. She believed, as she always had, that the wardens were necessary. Having a purpose outside the Tower - that was worth a truncated lifespan. She had never been able to consider children, or a family of any kind. It really was, for her, a taste of freedom. She could understand why Anders had embraced it so wholeheartedly.

As for Anders... well, they settled into some sort of compromise. It was hardly the time for assignations in the deep roads in any case, but the occasional reasonably chaste kiss, the odd embrace, was managed without too much embarrassment on her side. She couldn't express quite how much she was looking forward to being able to do those things... and many, many others, in the privacy of her quarters, without an internal monologue analysing the exact level of her arousal.

He learned to keep quiet after a while, but she knew he was still puzzled.

A week into their journey they started sensing tears in the veil. They were none of them as big as the tears that Anders and she had first encountered, but there were many more of them. Around the same time the darkspawn attacks increased, and there was the occasional undead among their numbers.

"It must have done this as a defensive perimeter," Nathaniel said. "Tear the veil surrounding its lair."

_It's possible it can sense whenever we destroy some of its undead, _Justice added. She mentioned this and Nathaniel looked troubled.

"It may know we are coming then," the archer said.

"I think it probably knew we would come for it eventually," Neria said.

The mages did their best to seal the tears in the veil they could sense, although it was an arduous process and ate up much of their time. If the tears were too far out of their way they simply took note of their position and continued on. Justice said it was possible once the demon was defeated the tears would repair themselves, but Neria was uncertain. It had taken a long time to bring the veil back up to strength at the Tower, and that was with over twenty mages working constantly.

There would be a lot of work for them, even once the demon was dead.

"I suppose it's good to have a purpose," she said one evening, throwing sticks into the fire. She was a little annoyed that it was still so cold in the deep roads - weren't they supposed to be warm and cosy with streams of lava? The unpredictability of weather was still unsettling for her.

Anders laughed. "There's more than just the two of us, you know," he said. "Just because we happen to be the best doesn't mean we have to do _everything."_

She smiled at him. "You really think you're great, don't you?" she said, but her tone was affectionate.

"Someone has to," he said. "But notice I did say _we _there. You're pretty good yourself. Trust me."

"Well I _know _that," she said.

Two days later they sensed the biggest tear in the fade yet. It was huge, encompassing a few square miles, Justice said. Navigating it would be dangerous and difficult and, unfortunately, necessary.

The demon, Justice was certain, sat in the middle of the tear. Like a spider in its web.


	25. Chapter 25

"We'll have to scout the area to find somewhere you and the mages can enter the fade," Nathaniel was saying. "Zevran and I can do that. How close do you need to be?"

Neria shrugged. "It doesn't really matter," she said. "We'll enter the fade in our dream and head through the forest again. The main thing is making sure we coordinate the timing of the attack. We need to attack it in the fade at the same time you do so in the waking world."

"Is there any way we can signal you?" Nathaniel asked.

She looked at Anders, who shrugged. "No," he said simply. "But it does like to talk. We can probably delay our own attack longer than you will be able to. Just hit it and hit it hard as soon as you see it."

"Crude," Nathaniel said, twisting his mouth in a smile. "But sometimes effective."

The two rogues left shortly afterwards, leaving them to worry and wait. She stayed close to Anders, unwilling to admit the tense anxiety she felt and finding his presence a comfort.

"You know, I was never much for big confrontations," Anders said to her. They were sitting on a rocky outcrop, the rest of the soldiers milling around as soldiers were wont to do before a battle.

"What happened when you got caught by the Templars? Did you try to fight?"

He chuckled. "The first few times, yes. The joy of being kicked in the head wore off after a while. They never sent just one after me. One I could have dealt with."

"Like you dealt with Tristan?"

He grinned at her. "Hey, I seem to remember you singularly failing to get rid of him too. Perhaps you weren't _motivated _enough?"

"Oh I was motivated. _Exceptionally _so. But you were the senior warden in that encounter."

"Mmmm. Deferring to me now, are you? Finally learning respect for your superiors?"

"Don't push me."

"So. Confrontations. They were never good for me. Until I became a warden. I was far more inclined to run away if I had the opportunity."

"You were on your own," she said. "Before you were a warden, I mean. Maybe you just needed back up."

He smiled. "Maybe I did," he said. "Suffice to say I haven't run away for a long time."

"Are you saying you'd like to now?"

He looked more serious. "No. Not unless I knew everyone else would be safe. And I guess we just can't know that, can we?"

"Not unless we eliminate the demon," Justice said.

"Which is what we're here for of course!" Anders said cheerfully. "I just hope those two rogues are stealthy enough."

"Nathaniel's no fool," Neria said. "And I get the impression Zevran isn't either."

"No, our Antivan elf is anything but that. He fought against the archdemon with the King and Queen, you know."

She cocked an eyebrow. "So did Oghren, though."

Anders let out a laugh. "Oh, yes indeed. He could tell us a few stories."

"If he was ever sober enough."

He took her hand suddenly, surprising her. She shifted closer to him and leaned her head on his shoulder, the nerves she'd been trying to contain released by the unexpected contact.

_You are afraid you will not survive, _Justice said then. _More precisely, you are afraid you _both _won't survive._

_Yes, _she said simply.

_You have had no opportunity to consummate your relationship, _he continued. She couldn't help blushing at that, despite being used to Justice's frankness. _This is my fault. I am sorry._

_Don't be, _she said. _It's not your fault. It's the fault of circumstance. _She didn't try to suppress the sudden keenness of her regret, she'd learned that Justice was very good at peeling back the layers of her emotions and she couldn't help thinking of the Crown and Lion and how deliciously close they had come - the feeling of his long fingers sliding up her shin just before Tristan's untimely entrance still haunted her dreams. And her waking hours. Not to mention their kiss before the battle at the keep.

She found her breath coming short and had to lift her head away from his shoulder. She squeezed the hand that still held hers tightly.

They were still like that, sitting and waiting, when Nathaniel and Zevran returned an hour later. They looked grim.

"It does not look good," Zevran said softly. "It seems you and your mages will have to remain here - it truly is the last place where the ritual can be performed without interruption. Your demon has surrounded itself with several pockets of undead. We will have to fight our way through them to get to it."

Anders swore.

"We've plotted the most efficient route, but it will still take us at least three hours to get to it," Nathaniel said.

"It only took us a little while to get through the forest, with Justice guiding us," Neria said. "We should probably go into the fade a few hours after you leave."

"I shall leave some soldiers here for your defense," Zevran said.

"No," Anders said. "If we're attacked here it will mean you've failed. I'll set up some glyphs if Nathaniel will lay some traps. If that's not enough to protect us, there's really no point."

They spent a good hour setting up perimeter defenses and ate a meal. When the soldiers left, Neria found herself next to Anders again, with his arm around her shoulders. Branwen and Armand were eyeing them, but she found she didn't really care.

Soon they would enter the fade.

* * *

Nathaniel cursed that he couldn't see what was going on in front of him. It was necessary for him to remain out of sight - he knew that. Along with the four archers they had placed in other areas of the cavern. They had been careful on their way here not to let their full numbers be known - in none of the skirmishes they had with the undead had all of them been visible. If the demon had any way of communicating with its forces, it would have little idea that more than a dozen fighters would be storming the cavern.

The problem was, he reflected, that they'd had to leave their mages back with Anders and Neria. A good firestorm or tempest was what was needed for this particular fight. He remembered Velanna before she'd... disappeared at the battle for the Vigil, raining destruction down on the darkspawn below. Her lightning attacks had been devastating and effective and losing her had sapped morale almost to the point where they were in danger of losing.

His heart constricted a little, thinking of the elven mage. Although he knew she and Miranda had never seen eye to eye, he'd found her company refreshing, her beauty... enticing.

They had never found her body.

And now he was facing a demon with no magical backup. Although he knew intellectually Anders and Neria would be facing the demon and in just as much danger as the rest of them, part of him felt resentful that they were so far away from what he saw as the _actual _combat.

He laughed at himself, that he could think that way. He remembered his father, scorning his use of the bow - calling it a "woman's" weapon. Long range fighting was for cowards - those who didn't have the strength for an axe or a longsword.

_An arrow in the back is just as effective, _he thought to his long dead father. _And probably would have served you better than your axe, in _that _final battle._

And Neria and Anders would, in a sense, be much closer to the demon than he was likely to get.

When he heard the first clash of weapons he stood, cocking an arrow on his bow, as did the other archers, and started to fire.

* * *

They were back on the clifftop. Anders swore softly and Justice - Justice was no longer inside her. He stood next to them on the clifftop, wearing the same armour he had worn when she first saw him in her fade fantasy, transparent. It was odd, being able to look at him, odder still, not feeling him.

"Well!" Anders said, relief evident in his voice. "At least we know you're back as separate entities!"

She grinned at him, thinking of what precisely that meant for the two of them. Justice, however, was looking around at the landscape, obviously puzzled.

"But where are we?"

"My dream," Anders said. "Sorry. It seems to be a powerful draw card for me at the moment. I can create a portal to your forest."

"You'd best do that quickly, then," Justice said. "We have no time to waste."

Anders shrugged and summoned the fade portal, and the three of them stepped through.

The forest had changed. What had once been merely menacing and strange was now twisted and eerie. "I was afraid of this," Justice said. "Without my influence to maintain the forest, the beings imprisoned here have begun to corrupt it. We will need to be cautious."

"Will they be able to escape?" Neria asked.

"I highly doubt it," Justice said. "I created this forest so that only I could navigate it. Even should they escape the individual prisons I have them in, they will never be able to escape the confines of the forest itself."

"We navigated it," Anders pointed out.

"You are mortal," Justice said. "And you are a mage. You have senses we do not."

"We? I thought you didn't place yourself in the same category as demons, Justice."

"Much as I hate to admit it, Anders, we spring from the same source, demons and I. We are related."

"Well, you wouldn't be the first to have relatives you're ashamed of, Justice," Anders said. "Don't worry too much."

They started on their way through the forest. The trees seemed even closer than previously, the undergrowth thicker, darker and more difficult to go through. Justice, however, seemed to have a calming affect on the landscape. Where he walked, the trees swayed backwards out of his way, more light seemed to filter down through the branches and they eventually had him take the lead.

Still, out of the corners of her eyes Neria caught glimpses of things moving - her ears picked up what sounded like breathing, or the rustling of crawly things in the undergrowth - the odd menacing growl. It was supremely unsettling. And on top of it all, the deep, brooding menace that was the pride demon, sitting in the centre of the forest as it sat in its lair in the deep roads, an all encompassing malevolence that drew them ever closer.

When finally they reached the edge of the clearing that held the demon, Neria and Anders were both thrumming with tension and anxiety. She could feel fear pricking at every sense, making her hyper alert and ready to cast at the slightest provocation. She wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not.

They did not need to hesitate, their dual tactics were simple and direct. This would be a show of force, and whomever was the stronger would prevail.

The three of them stepped in unison into the clearing.


	26. Chapter 26

_Nock. Pull. Release._ Zevran was dodging in and out of the sea of walking corpses, throwing acid flasks towards the figure in the centre. The demon in centre had not yet resorted to magic, for which he was grateful - only Ogrhen had templar training amongst their force and although Nathaniel respected and admired the dwarf's prowess he knew the former warrior caste preferred using his axe. He guessed the demon was distracted by Anders and Neria in the fade.

_Nock. Pull. Release. _The number of corpses in the cavern was not the main problem, although they outnumbered their own force at least two to one. The demon had set glyphs and traps surrounding its makeshift throne, making certain that Zevran - possibly their fastest and most lethal warrior, was occupied for the first half of the battle making the approach to the demon even remotely possible. Although he was covered by two soldiers at all times, there were a few moments when Nathaniel had to catch his breath in fear as he narrowly escaped the clutches of a walking corpse.

_Nock. Pull. Release. _To make matters worse, the darkspawn were coming. His warden senses had started to tingle as soon as the fight began. Obviously the demon was calling them to him. He was too distracted to clearly sense how many were coming, but he guessed more than they could cope with. Darkspawn were better armed and armoured than corpses - better coordinated. They would easily overcome their force if they had not accomplished their mission before they arrived.

_Nock. Pull. Release. _He heard the bellow that meant Oghren had let loose his beserker fit and cursed to himself. Now they were defenseless against magic attacks for a time. He looked down and saw the flash of red hair that was the dwarf, surrounded by six corpses, twirling nugcrusher with consummate skill. The dwarf had had little choice, it seemed. Two soldiers were down surrounding him, their red steel armour clotted with blood. One was moving. He could only hope they were injured and not killed outright.

_Nock. Pull. Release. _He had one more quiver of arrows. Enchanted with fire. He'd been saving them for when they engaged the demon. He might have to start using them before then. Zevran was up again - dodging between corpses, leaving his soldiers behind. His small blond form was clambering up the pile of skulls that made the dais for the demon's throne. There was an inhuman cry as the elf launched himself into the air. Nate leant down and grabbed the other quiver, ripping the first from his back and slinging it into place with practiced ease. He felt the tingle of the enchantment in his fingers as he drew the first arrow and nocked it even as Zevran's sword and dagger sped down towards the darkspawn demon's back.

_Pull._

_Release._

The sound as the elf was thrown backward was defeaning, the sudden flare of power surrounding the figure blinding, but Nate's arrow had already loosed and despite being blinded he _knew _it was flying true...

* * *

The clearing was much larger. Tree stumps surrounded it - as did the skeletons of burnt trees. Obviously the demon had been experimenting with ways to escape its prison in Justice's absence.

The taint was rampant - fleshy bulges spewed from the ground and his warden senses sang with it as soon as his feet struck the ground of the clearing. The demon was seated on its throne, which was now piled on human skulls. Four demons surrounded the base of the pile, standing like sentinels around the central figure.

It stood as they entered. It was taller, less grotesque than Anders remembered. It looked more human.

"You are late," it said. "Your companions already attempt to destroy me."

"Oh?" Anders said. "I suppose it's too much to hope that they are succeeding?"

The demon chuckled. "They will fail. My brethren approach the cavern from all directions. They will be eliminated."

"Really, there's no point in talking, then, is there?" he said, glancing at Neria and Justice.

Neria shrugged and Justice started to stride forward, drawing his sword.

He let loose his first spell.

Justice dispatched the four lesser demons with no trouble at all, while Neria and Anders threw elemental spells at the demon, conserving their mana, attempting to wear it down rather than kill it outright. Justice had suggested a direct assault with his weapons, which were especially tuned to the fade, would be most effective against their foe.

The demon did not stand idly by and let them batter it with spells, however, Anders was hit twice by a crushing prison, forcing Neria to shield him and use her rudimentary healing as he twitched and yelled - what wouldn't she have given for Garic's templar cleanse at that point. She was burned and frozen in quick succession, leaving her shaky and weak until Anders bolstered her with a rejuvenation spell.

But Anders was unable to heal Justice. His spells did not affect the fade spirit, which was an advantage at first - but once he engaged the demon itself...

The demon drew a two handed sword and the weapons of the two spirits clashed. Anders and Neria continued to bombard the demon with spells, but their mana was depleting fast and there was no way for them to renew it.

Justice was pierced several times by the demon's sword and where spells had no effect, it was obvious that this was not the case here.

"Can't you heal him?" Neria shouted.

"It's doing _nothing," _Anders hissed back. "We need to disable the demon - let Justice kill it."

She looked helpless for a moment, before her eyes lit up and she lunged for him, grasping his arm. "Look at me!" she shouted. He looked down at her, puzzled, and she placed her hands on either side of his face, closing her eyes. Suddenly he felt an insistent presence creeping in behind his eyes - he recognised her aura, felt her power - the untapped reserves stunning him with their potency.

_Together, _she said, and he could _feel _her inside his head and it was _stunningly _intimate and nearly disabled him completely. Was this what it felt like to have Justice inside her? He hadn't been jealous enough.

But she was taking control of _his _power suddenly and he realised they had a job to do and he stepped back and let her take control. She had skills he didn't have - they suddenly had access to so many more spells and combinations of spells.

_This one, _they thought. _Together._

They turned, in unison, and raised their arms, calling down the blizzard on the clearing, freezing the demon so that Justice was free to batter it with his sword. Then the combined might of a stone fist shot from between them to hit the demon squarely in the chest.

It let out a wail that was piercing and a blinding light filled the clearing, burning in its intensity. Anders felt himself scorched to the soul, inside and out. Neria's presence was gone from him - the shock of the impact separating them.

_A portal! _he heard, although he didn't know if the voice was Neria's or Justice's. _You must call a portal. This forest is no more!_

He was wracked with pain, but he managed to sketch the portal in the air behind him. There was no way of telling if Justice was still locked in combat with the demon, no way of seeing _anything _in the blinding light that surrounded them, but he managed to grab Neria and plunge into the purple mist of the portal.

* * *

Zevran had yet to regain consciousness. Oghren sported a wide but shallow cut down one side of his face. Six of the ten Denerim soldiers were dead, the other four had injuries serious enough to need healing magic. It was amazing that they managed to get back to the mages.

What they found depressed Nathaniel even more. Branwen and Armand were standing guard over the inert figures of Neria and Anders. "They're out of the fade," Branwen said to him softly, while Armand tended to the wounded. "We felt the ritual break. But they haven't regained consciousness. And I can't feel ANY magic in them. They must have used all their reserves."

"If they hadn't, we wouldn't have succeeded," Nathaniel said, thinking of his arrow - piercing the throat of the demon's darkspawn body. The shield that had surrounded it must have faltered at exactly the right moment.

Not soon enough to help Zevran, unfortunately.

Branwen moved to join Armand. It was a shame Anders was unconscious - he was the best of their healers. But Nathaniel supposed he would have to hope the two new wardens were skilled enough.

The journey back to the keep was arduous. Anders, Neria and Zevran all had to be carried on litters. The darkspawn who had flocked to the cavern were dispersing, thank the maker, without the demon to direct them, although they had to fight off two small bands.

After two days, Zevran regained consciousness and was able to walk, although he was shaken and weak. The two mages, however, did not wake at all. Armand and Branwen fed them water and thin soup, which they swallowed reflexively. Otherwise they did not stir.

"There's nothing physically wrong with them," Branwen told him, when they were a day away from the keep. "I'm guessing it's just exhaustion. I can feel magic from them both now, so I think they'll recover. There's no telling how long it will take though."

When they reached the keep they were greeted by Sigrun, Alistair, and Miranda. The Queen had arrived a few days after they left. She held an alert Duncan on her hip and gave Nathaniel her brilliant smile when she saw him.

Her face fell when she looked at Anders and Neria, however. She handed Duncan to his father and came to the litters, lightly touching Anders' hand and feeling Neria's forehead. "They're alive?" she said.

Nathaniel nodded. "Just exhausted, Branwen says. I suggest we get them to their rooms."

She nodded, still with the crisp snap of command. Sigrun had run her eyes over everyone, lingering for a moment on Ogrhen and Zevran, before motioning him over as the rest of the party dispersed.

"You were successful?" she asked.

"Yes," Nathaniel said. "We destroyed the physical body of the demon. We won't know what happened in the fade until Neria and Anders wake, however."

"I haven't had any dreams for a week," she said. "You?"

Nathaniel shook his head. It was good reason for optimism - that the forest had disappeared. He just hoped it had not been too great a cost.


	27. Chapter 27

_Final Chapter. Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing. I've had more fun writing this than is reasonable for anyone, I do believe, and having feedback just puts the icing on the cake. You are all awesome! Special thanks to Piceron, Eryannar, Ladyamesindy, Tasmen and the other girls from the Fanfiction Sucks thread on Bioware's forum - there were a few chapters that would not have been completed without you!_

_

* * *

_

Pounce curled next to him on the clifftop. The wind had died down and the sun was warm as it sank towards the horizon, spreading gold and red rays over the tall swaying grass. He basked in it, stretching and curling much the same way the cat beside him did. Warmth seeped into his bones and he sighed in contentment.

"So are you naked in _all _your dreams?"

It was _her _voice. He opened his eyes to see a shadow blocking the sun, then ran his fingers down his chest. Mmm. Yes. He _was_ naked. He tried to remember if that was usually the case in this dream.

Not usually, he concluded. But when he was, it was often a lot of fun.

"If you're not naked, then this isn't _my _dream," he said. He couldn't tell. The light behind her was too bright.

She shifted away and he heard a silvery laugh. "You mean _I'm _naked in all of your dreams?"

"All the ones worth remembering, any way," he said, sitting up. He concentrated for a moment and he was clothed, warden issue robes. It didn't do to present oneself to a lady in that state, especially when it would be much more fun to get to that state with her help.

She was standing closer to the edge of the cliff, looking out at the ocean. The wind ruffled through her dark hair and the light made her skin glow gold. She _was _dressed, he was slightly disappointed to note, although she was wearing a plain peasant dress rather than mage robes.

"Interesting," he said. "I would have thought my dream Neria would wear something different."

"You think I'm your dream Neria?" she said. "What if I've simply found a way into your head?"

"If you have," he said, making his way to her and encircling her waist in his arms, "may I never wake up."

She leaned her head back on his shoulder and rolled quite delightfully against him.

"I suppose we _are _asleep?" she said. "I seem to remember going through a fade portal. Shouldn't we have woken up then?"

"Goodness. Does this mean you _are _real? How intriguing..." he let his hands slide up her waist towards her breasts, enjoying the thin feel of the cloth over her skin.

She shivered. "It was a serious question," she said, but her voice sounded a little breathless.

He turned her around and tipped her face up to his. "I'm not in the mood for serious right now," he said, lowering his head to her neck and trailing kisses up towards her ear. "You're free of Justice for the first time in three weeks and I am _seriously _horny."

"We still have an audience," she said, pointedly looking down at his feet, where Pounce was sitting, looking up at them and swishing his tail.

"Mmm. I'm sure there's a word for cats who interfere in my fun," he looked down at the animal, who twitched an ear in a way that seemed to say _wake up you fools._

Anders sighed. "There's always the possibility that we're dead, of course," he said. "Although if certain Templars are correct I was supposed to burn in one of the Maker's hells rather than get stuck with a lovely view and a pretty girl."

"And why am _I _on the receiving end of such hideous punishment?" she said, trailing her fingers across his chest. "It's not like I was a wanted apostate when I was alive."

He caught her wrist in his hand. "Naughty," he said. "Saying I'm a punishment? My dreams aren't up to your standard? That demands retribution." He used his other hand to trace her collarbone, moving towards the buttons on her bodice. "I think it's entirely unfair that you have seen me naked, yet I have not had the pleasure," he said, deftly undoing the first. He was working on the second and she was leaning delightfully forward to give him a better view when he felt teeth sink into his ankle.

"Maker's blood, Pounce!" he swore jumping back. The cat was hissing at him now, claws and teeth bared and he turned his head and sank claws into Neria's legs. She yelped and stepped back. The cat turned from feral to unconcerned in a matter of seconds, although when Anders tried to get closer to Neria again his tail swished warningly.

"I get the impression he wants us to wake up," Neria said, grinning. "He was quite helpful, you know, in the fade before. Perhaps we should listen to him."

"Huh," Anders said. "I was planning on having a lot of fun, puss," he said to Pounce. The cat flicked an ear. "Bad as a Templar, I swear it."

"Think of it this way," she said, her eyes twinkling. "In the real world, you can lock him out."

He felt a slow smile spread across his face. "Mmm. Now that you mention it..."

She turned and held out a hand, summoning another fade portal. "After you?" she said. He shook his head.

"Ladies _always _first," he said. She disappeared into the purple mist. He stepped after her...

...into a world of hurt. He groaned and rolled onto his side. "I'm going to kill that cat," he mumbled, once he was certain his mouth worked.

"This cat?" a voice said. Sigrun. She was sitting next to his bed, Pounce in her lap, purring outrageously and giving him a very, very smug look.

"Yes, that cat," he said. "To what do I owe the honour of your presence, Commander?"

The dwarf shrugged, a half grin on her face. Her eyes were twinkling with relief - he hoped - and not with amusement, considering he'd just noticed he had not a stitch on and he was rather embarrassingly... still remembering his dream. He hastily mussed the covers, hoping she hadn't noticed.

The Commander of a few weeks ago wouldn't have, but these days... with that elf around...

"Nothing special," she said. "Just my shift, that's all."

"Your shift?"

"You've been out for a week and a half."

His stomach chose that moment to rumble like an irritated bear. "Only a week?" he said, clutching his stomach. "Someone get me some food, it feels like a year."

She got to her feet, Pounce neatly jumping from her lap to his, and opened the door, poking her head out and speaking to someone in the corridor.

"Neria?" he asked.

"She was the same as you," Sigrun replied. "I sent someone to ask about her when I sent for some food." He rubbed his hair, horrified to find that it was loose, then fumbled for a tie on his bedside table. "Really, Anders. You're naked, in bed, and worried about your _hair?" _Sigrun sounded terribly amused.

"Laugh all you want, Sigrun, but a man's dignity cannot be cheapened by your heartlessness." He pulled the blond strands back from his face, wishing he could get up to the mirror. The continued presence of his commander and the pervading weakness in his limbs made him wisely decide to stay put for the moment.

"I'm glad I was here when you woke," Sigrun continued. "We're all figuring you were successful in your fade attack - there have been no more dreams of the forest and no more veil tears. But we need to know exactly what happened."

He shut his eyes for a moment - suddenly remembering the bright, burning light - the voice - Justice's he was sure, urging them to flee...

"Nothing could have survived that," he said, the words suddenly striking home to him another fact. Justice hadn't come with them. He'd stayed in the forest. Could an embodiment of an ideal die? Was Justice gone? "We should go back into the fade and check, though."

"Armand tried," Sigrun said. "He said where the forest was there's nothing. At all."

"He didn't see Justice there?"

Sigrun shook her head. "No sign of him."

Anders sighed and looked up at the window. It was mid-morning, by the light. Pounce butted his head against Anders chest, purring. "What do you think, Pounce?" he said to the cat. "Did he survive?"

The cat continued to purr.

"I suppose all we can do is wait," Sigrun said. "If the demon was truly destroyed we'll have no more problems."

"No more problems relating to a pride demon possessed darkspawn, at any rate," Anders said.

There was a knock on the door and a servant entered with a platter of food. "The elven mage is also awake," he said. "And also asking for food."

Anders let out a whoop of joy and nearly leapt out of the bed. Sigrun put a surprisingly strong hand on his shoulder, however, and pushed him back. "The world isn't ready for naked Anders to go running through the keep," she said. "Eat something. Have a bath. Get dressed. Then if you still feel like frolicking through the hallways, knock yourself out."

He blushed, but sat back and allowed the servant to lay the tray of food over his lap.

An hour later he was dressed, but any plans he may have had regarding frolicking had to be delayed. The embarrassing fact that he'd had to be helped to the bath and helped to dress made it abundantly clear that until he had eaten at least two more meals and had another good night's sleep, he wouldn't be doing anything for a while, alone or otherwise.

The next morning he was woken by a gentle shake to the shoulder. He opened his eyes to find Neria standing over him, grinning. She was holding a steaming cup of something that smelled... delicious in one hand and a basket in the other.

"Breakfast?" she said.

"Mmmm," he said. "I must admit, when I think of you serving me in bed, it's not as a waitress."

She sat on the side of the bed and handed him the tea. He took it in both hands and let the steam drift up into his face. "What _is _this? It smells outrageously lovely."

"Raspberry leaf tea," she said. "With some mint and a few other things. My mother used to make it for me when I was sick."

He took a sip. It did delightful things to his tongue and settled warmly in his empty stomach, then he peered into the basket. Hot rolls, buttered by the smell, wrapped in napkins to keep them warm. He grinned, setting the steaming cup of tea on his bedside table and reached into the basket. She did the same and they munched in happy contentment for a few minutes.

When the basket had been reduced to crumbs and the tea was drunk, they say awkwardly and looked at each other for a long moment. "Well, my lady," he said finally. "You have me at a disadvantage."

"Not as much of one as I'd like," she said, eyeing him. He had put nightclothes on, after yesterday's embarrassing wake up.

"We have some lost time to make up," he said then. She smiled, shyly, and it was one of the sweetest things he'd ever seen. He shifted forward in the bed and touched her cheek with one long finger. letting a stray shot of healing magic play along her jaw. She drew in a breath sharply and caught his hand in hers, pulling it towards her mouth and gently kissing the tips of his fingers.

"We might need to go easy on the magic," she said softly. "Don't want Garic in here."

He chuckled, pulled her towards him and covered her mouth with his. She sighed against him, mouth opening as a hand came up to tangle in his hair, pulling through the strands. His skin felt super-sensitive, every place she touched tingled without any need for magic.

He shifted on the bed, turning her down onto her back. The basket, unimportant, fell to the floor as he ran his fingers over her shoulders, pushing aside robes that were already unbuttoned _why hadn't he noticed _that _when she came in_ so he could feel the sweep of her collarbone, the roundness of her shoulders, the gentle swell of her... _oh yes.. _breasts above her breastband. He felt her tremble as his fingers roamed and he chuckled against her lips. She struggled against him for a moment until he lifted his head to look at her quizzically, but she was smiling.

She picked at his nightshirt. "This," she said huskily. "Off."

"Oh no," he said. "You owe me."

"That was the fade," she said, squirming underneath him in ways that did _nothing _for his concentration. "It doesn't count."

"I say it does," he said, gently tugging her robes down below her breasts. He caught his breath as they were exposed, the thin band leaving almost nothing to his imagination. But he slithered down until he was off the bed, pulling the robes with him until she was naked but for smallclothes.

A delicate flush bloomed under her pale skin as he knelt between her legs, gently running his fingers down her hips and thighs. She was so small, yet he remembered the strength of her power flowing through him - the reserves he'd felt - and shivered in something akin to awe. He kissed the depression behind one her knees and let his fingers move upwards again, hooking under her smallclothes and easing them off her hips. She lifted up to let him and he found his breath coming faster at the view that was revealed. Once they were gone, she sat up and removed her breastband so she was totally and gloriously naked.

"Maker's breath," he breathed. "You're _astonishing_."

She smiled, her cheeks turning a delightful shade of pink, before sliding off the bed and standing before him, running her fingers underneath his shirt and up his chest. He took the opportunity to cup her breasts, gently molding them and teasing the dark nipples erect, groaning as her fingers made their own explorations of his body.

There was a slight noise behind him and through the fog of desire he suddenly remembered something important. "Hold that thought," he said to Neria, turning around and scooping Pounce up into his arms. In two quick strides he made it to the door, opened it and placed the cat outside, closing and locking the door firmly once he was gone. He turned to find her hands over her mouth, repressing a giggle. He growled and lunged for her, toppling her back onto the bed, trapping her underneath him and pulling his shirt over his head .

He spent the next little while in a detailed exploration of her body that left them both gasping for breath. He wanted to devour every part of her, take his time, memorise every inch, but she was impatient and slid her hands down to his erection, grasping it firmly and sliding fingers over him - skilled fingers that had him wondering exactly what she'd gotten up to in the tower before he'd properly known her. He'd frozen as soon as she touched him there, and she took advantage of his distraction to push him onto his back and straddle him, her short hair hanging in sweaty strands around her cheeks despite the chill of the room. She gently sank her nails into his chest, her posture remarkably cat like and sinuous before dipping her head and lapping at his nipples, making him gasp and squirm, lifting his hips, straining towards her. She gave a small chuckle as she kissed his chest, shifting slightly so he _could _reach her. With a sudden shift of her hips he felt her wet heat enclose him and he cried out with the sudden bliss, driving upwards with no finesse at all.

She threw back her head and laughed a little as he panted, gaining a measure of control and grinning back at her.

When she began to move, though, he thought he would faint. She closed her eyes, a smile playing around her slightly parted lips, her gasping breaths sending shocks of pleasure through him that were more intense than anything he'd ever felt before. His magic flared, almost without volition, surrounding them with a nimbus of light - a healing aura that they didn't need but danced across their senses like warm water, touching her in places he couldn't reach. She cried out, leaning further back as he bucked his hips against her, seeking greater depth.

As he felt his climax building she leant forward again and claimed his lips with hers and stopped her movement. He groaned, so close, so achingly close that a single touch would push him over the edge, but she gripped his hips with surprisingly strong thighs, stopping any movement as she kissed him thoroughly and slowly.

When he could take no more he shifted, lifting her and turning her onto her back so he could drive into her, her cries of pleasure urging him on until she clenched around him, shuddering, forcing his own release a moment later.

He rested on his elbows for a moment, the ends of his hair tickling her cheeks, before shifting next to her, resting one arm across her stomach, letting the other hand rest in her hair. The healing aura dissipated gradually, the light in the room returning to normal as they caught their breath.

"Worth waiting for?" she asked finally.

"Absolutely," he said. "And amazingly, you know we're allowed to do it again if we want?"

"Truly?" she said. "I honestly thought it was a one time thing!"

He laughed, letting his hand slide up to her breast, cupping it gently. She gasped and arched her back a little. "I don't think once is _nearly _enough," he said.

She turned to face him, touching his lips with delicate fingers. _This _was freedom, he thought. "We'll have to take a trip up to that cliff," he said. "You've only seen _my _version of it."

"When it's not so cold, perhaps," she said. "Speaking of which..." They shuffled under the covers and she snuggled into the crook of his arm, sighing into his chest. He'd never been much for post coital cuddling, but he decided he liked it with her.

He liked pretty much everything with her. "You know," he said, coming suddenly to a realisation that had been building for weeks. "I have a feeling I love you."

She looked up at him, smiling. "Well, of course," she said. He snorted with laughter.

"Not precisely the reaction I was looking for, but well delivered."

She reached up and cupped his unshaven cheek. "I love you too," she murmured sleepily. He hugged her tighter for a moment, a moment where he had everything he could have wished for and all was right in the world.

* * *

_Ser-Pounce-A-Lot licked a paw, his cat mind indifferent to the noises coming from the room behind him. As he stood, stretching lazily, a presence removed itself from behind his eyes with a surge of satisfaction. Pounce ignored it and started towards the kitchen. _

_There were mice to be caught and scraps to be eaten._


End file.
